Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Epilogue
- A Note from the Author
- Discussion Questions
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Acclaim for David Rawlings
- Also by David Rawlings
Daniel peered at the photograph even closer. “Why would Gramps take a photo of that?”
Kelly snatched it from him. “No idea. I’ll ask your mother.” She had to get that photo away from Daniel in case the name on the account was hers.
Thirteen
The clouds hung over the ocean, whiter than they’d ever been. Lines of breaking waves feathered out from rocks Daniel had seen a hundred times from the cliff top, but now they thrust out of the water in a rich, lime-green coat of seaweed. The tall grass whipped at his legs, and the white-and-yellow flower heads that lined the path swept back and forth with vibrant life.
Daniel lowered Gramps’s camera from his eye as the salty wind whipped his cheeks and tousled his hair. The clouds grayed over the muddy ocean. Simon might be at the annoying end of eccentric, but he was right about the camera’s clarity. This was his first chance to try it out. Finally.
Behind him, Milly dragged her feet in the low-slung flowers. They’d always been close—many people said she was definitely his daughter—and what hurt him most was their growing distance. He could quote the textbook signs of teenage rebellion in his sleep, but he still wanted her to be his little princess, not the saddened version of a princess locked in a tower of her own making. He needed to fix her.
Milly caught his eye and veered off the path toward the cliff’s edge. A tingle of parental anxiety leaped up Daniel’s spine.
“Dad, how long do you think it would take to reach the bottom if you jumped?”
They also shared a dark humor. “Good one, Mill.” Daniel studied her for signs of honesty rather than humor. He lifted the camera to his eye again, and she appeared in his vision, one foot off the cliff.
“Milly!” Daniel all but dropped the camera as he rushed forward to grab his daughter.
She was no longer on the edge. She stood by the path, hands in pockets. “What?”
“If you think it’s funny, it isn’t.”
“Is what funny?”
A light wind whipped between them as Milly approached him. “Can I hold Gramps’s camera?”
Daniel held it out to her, and she took it, her hands dipping with the weight. She inspected its size and then ran a finger along the knobs on its top and the window on its back. “How does the film work?”
“It goes in the back, runs across the lens, is collected on the other side, winds back, and then you take the canister to a film processing place.”
Milly lifted the camera to her eye and scanned the horizon. “Film processing place? Why not just download them?”
“Download them?” Daniel laughed. “No, I have to take them to a film lab. Monique found one around the corner from work.”