Competing images flashed in her mind on an ever-accelerating carousel of confusion. Sick children. Her destroyed reputation. Sick children. A hammer flashing down on a For Sale sign out in front of her dream home. Sick children.

Kelly had to know if she had made the right decision. She turned to Milly, who was in the passenger seat, engrossed in her phone. “You wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Milly nodded without even looking up. She was adamant she couldn’t go to school. Years ago she would have crawled over broken glass rather than miss out on time with her friends. Now she wanted to stay home, and she didn’t look sick.

As the little bell announced Kelly’s arrival, the back of the lab filled with whirring and clicking. She beelined to the photos on the wall and stood in front of the ornate gold frame. The two children still lay back on hospital beds, their parents in anguish. What had she been thinking? That these photos would somehow give her the answer to the question that had tormented her since she marched out of the elevator at Rubicon Pharma?

Have I done the right thing?

The top corner of the photo shuddered and shimmered. Kelly peered at the red Get Well balloons. Did they move?

They more than moved. The balloons shimmied before the red faded, leaving just a light gray. Kelly’s eyes widened as the color from the rest of the photograph drained away. It was as if someone had pulled a plug at the bottom of the frame. She stared—scared—but then turned at the bell’s jingle.

Simon cocked his head, studying her. “You look different, Kelly. Lighter almost, like there’s a weight lifted from you.”

Kelly pointed to the photo of the children. “I’m not sure. But look.”

Simon rushed up to the gold frame, a squeal escaping him. “Congratulations!”

In the midst of Kelly’s fear emerged a calmness. “What is happening?”

“My photographs show truth—true honesty—in vivid color to grab attention. Bright and gaudy is needed in today’s world, but when the attention is no longer needed”—he brushed a finger across the photo frame—“then the color fades.”

To Kelly’s consternation, the picture dissolved, leaving just an empty frame.

Simon pursed quivering lips. “Your life will be better with this honesty.”

“I don’t know about that. I lost my job.”

“There will always be consequences for honesty in business, but you would have lost more if you hadn’t faced this.”

Kelly looked over Simon’s shoulder at the empty frame. “How did you do that? Is it a digital frame?”

With a light chuckle on his lips, Simon lifted the frame from the wall and held it in front of himself. No wires.