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Back The Camera Never Lies Save as PDF
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. Epigraph
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Thirty-Five
  38. Thirty-Six
  39. Thirty-Seven
  40. Thirty-Eight
  41. Thirty-Nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-One
  44. Forty-Two
  45. Forty-Three
  46. Forty-Four
  47. Forty-Five
  48. Epilogue
  49. A Note from the Author
  50. Discussion Questions
  51. Acknowledgments
  52. About the Author
  53. Acclaim for David Rawlings
  54. Also by David Rawlings

No chapter held back. As each of his failings presented itself for examination, he felt as if three years of stress peeled away like sunburned skin, revealing a fresh, vibrant layer beneath. Simon was right. The chief beneficiary of this book was him.

His fingers slowed as he approached the end of another chapter and the current point in his life. His index finger tapped at the keys. He couldn’t end the story here. Something was missing.

Daniel leaned across to the briefcase and picked up the photo album, the cardboard groaning as he flicked through its pages. His eyes were now open to the truth held under tiny black triangles. These photos didn’t show just the worst of the people in them; they were their truest representation. These weren’t people before the right moment; they were people right in the moment, or the consequence of it. Garth could have been homeless had he not addressed his drinking. Gramps’s other friends could have been destroyed had they followed their addictions. His own marriage could have been over.

Daniel laid the album back in the briefcase and pulled out the camera. The tiny window on top of it still read “1.” As it had from the moment they’d gone to counseling.

Daniel sighed. It would be so handy to have this camera in his office at Crossroads. But being confronted with truth was one thing; dealing with it was another. He placed the camera back in the briefcase, almost with reverence. He had been saved from a broken and lonely future. And he knew what needed to happen with the camera now.

Daniel pulled the envelope with familiar upright writing on it from the briefcase. He opened the letter inside and read it again. When he propped it up on a photo of Kelly, Milly, and himself, he knew how he would complete the book. At the beginning.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he scrolled back to the start of the document, and with a gentle sigh, his fingers moved almost of their own accord.

Gramps, very little surprises me, but the gift of your camera did. It helped me see beyond the knowledge I thought I had, to see that sometimes the best way to come clean is to acknowledge that the peace of truth outweighs the pain of revelation.

You were right to worry about my family. I shifted the conversation away every time you tried to talk to me about what was going on because it was another reminder of my failure. I was less than the person I wanted you to see, than the person I wanted to be. Without the camera I wouldn’t have lasted. I thought I could work through my problems on my own, but I couldn’t. I needed the ability to hide my secrets taken away.