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
Simon pointed across the film lab. “They came from very special cameras.”
Daniel noticed the gap in the lineup of cameras on the far wall. “What happened to the one with the bellows?”
A faraway look drifted across Simon’s face. “The price was paid, and the camera is now telling its truth.”
Daniel had played enough evasive games with people sitting on his couch to know when he needed to put down his foot—before his blood pressure got the better of the conversation. “So now you’re telling me you sell magic cameras.”
“The camera never lies. Never. You need to realize that. My cameras deliver the truth that needs to be delivered.”
The lid to Daniel’s self-control blew off. The veins in his neck pounded as his frustration escaped in an anguished scream, clenched fists shaking with rage. One held Gramps’s camera.
Simon’s face froze in an ecstatic grin. “The Olympus HS-10 Infinity. May I hold it?”
Daniel’s anger seeped out of him at the same rate his brain was trying to make sense of what was going on.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen it. May I . . . please?”
So long since he’d seen it? Daniel’s indignation kicked into gear in a vain attempt to maintain the rage.
Simon took Gramps’s camera from Daniel’s compliant hand with something approaching reverence. He wiped a gloved thumb across the viewfinder and appeared to be choking back tears. “This is such a special camera, Daniel.”
Daniel had one final chance to put the conversation back on the rails. “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve by pretending that the camera is somehow responsible—”
“It’s as special as the day I sold it to your grandfather.” Simon’s eyes roved every inch of the camera.
White blotches fired in Daniel’s vision. “What did you say?”
Simon rose on the balls of his feet and beamed. “It’s as special as it was the day I sold it to your grandfather . . . and he was right in choosing to give it to you.”
Twenty-Two
The chatter in the Rubicon Pharma lecture theater dimmed with the lights. Murmurs rippled, driven by the morning’s media naming of the drug responsible for the hospitalization of hundreds of young children. Mendacium was on page one but not for good reasons.
Kelly leaned across the armrest to Jasmine. “We’d better get some answers.”
Jasmine shushed Kelly as smoke curled out from the black curtains at the back of the stage and colored lights ushered in pounding dance music. Tarquin Gascon paced out from the wings of the stage, and applause swept from one side of the auditorium to the other like wildfire. Rubicon Pharma welcomed its leader.
From her seat in the third row, Kelly stretched to hear any lulls in the applause, reassurance she wasn’t alone in needing more than motivation and light shows.