Daniel was taken aback at the sudden switch in the conversation. Simon grinned at Daniel as he placed the camera back on the shelf, and then he clicked his fingers and dropped to his haunches. “That reminds me, once you get your photos back, you’ll want more film.” He pulled a box from under the shelves. “Because of the great clarity of the Olympus HS-10 Infinity, you’ll need a box. We’ve got an opening special on fifty—”

Daniel grunted to put an end to the sales pitch before it eroded even more of his morning. “You gave me one last time. I’m not sure I need another—the photos Gramps took were not very clear at all. In fact, the color was washed out.”

A grin crept across Simon’s face and froze into place. “I know. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

Wonderful? “All I want is Gramps’s last photos.”

Simon swept an arm toward the frames on the far wall. “But don’t you see? These photographs will provide you with great insight and reveal so much about life.”

Daniel looked across the room to the faces framed in dark timber, ornate painted wood, silver, and metal. And at an empty frame closest to the counter.

“Simon, look—”

A soft buzz emanated from the blue-and-white machine. Simon jumped up and sprinted behind the counter, pulling on white gloves. He reached for a handful of photographs from the racks nestled into one side of the processing machine, smiling as he counted his way through them. He put them in an envelope and raced back to the counter, peeled a sticker from a roll under the counter, and sealed the envelope with great care. He held it out to Daniel with a solemn nod. “This is always a big moment, when people find out what their cameras have captured.”

Daniel grasped the envelope, but Simon still held on to it. Daniel pulled a little harder, and Simon let go. He would ask Monique to consult Google again for another processing place. One online even.

Simon rose again on the balls of his feet. “I trust those photographs show you what you need to see. And you can have that roll of film.”

Daniel quick-stepped out of this strange conversation, and the tiny bell jingled at his escape.

The sticker on the envelope—a replica of an old-fashioned wax seal—proclaimed that Simon’s Film Lab provided “greater clarity than you’ve ever had for those moments in life that matter the most.” The weight of the moment settled onto Daniel. He peeled away the sticker and steeled himself for the emotion he knew would come. In his hand, he held the last images Gramps cared enough about to capture before he passed away.

The first photo showed Anna Potts in deep conversation with a couple as they sat in her office.

What?