‘So, the picture was taken on an iPhone. And sometimes with iPhones there’ll be a name attached to it, like, “Leo’s iPhone” or whatever – no such luck, but looks like it was definitely taken on an iPhone 4, which I thought was notable for its … obsoletion. Is that a word? Obsolete-ness. Basically I don’t think that many people have them. Does that mean anything to you?’

I thought for a second. I assumed the folders in Dad’s office wouldn’t specify patients’ technological leanings. ‘Yeah. OK.’ I tried to cycle through images of the party anyway, only it was impossible to actually get anything to materialize; all the memories were blurry and too fast. It wasn’t unlikely someone had that phone. More than one person. Even June did.

‘No bells ringing?’

‘Not really. I’ll … I’ll keep an eye out, though. Let you know if I remember anything.’

‘Cool. Sorry if that’s not all that helpful.’

‘No, it is. I mean, that’s the only bit of information we have at all right now. Anything’s better than nothing.’

‘Man. We live in a world where someone’s outdated phone is a clue. Technology, man. Gonna write a slam poem about that. Hey, I don’t know if I’m out of line for asking – who’s the girl you’re with? A friend?’

I smiled despite myself. ‘It’s … astronomically complicated,’ I said, even though it wasn’t, really; I just wanted it to be more complicated.

He withdrew, blinked. ‘Oh. Oh. OK. It is a bit of a cutesy thing. Sittin’ on a roof, all cosy. Is she … you know, are you …’

‘No. That’s why it’s complicated.’ Then I sighed. ‘I wish.’

He froze, then thawed and shook his head knowingly. ‘Aaahhh. I feel that. Straight?’

I nodded, all big and exaggerated, even though, I realized, this had never actually been confirmed. ‘Mm. Pretty sure, anyway. She has a boyfriend. Like, some big-shot, objectively attractive boyfriend.’

‘Ah. My friend. The world has been cruel to us. What’s her name?’

‘June.’

‘June,’ he repeated, like he was seeing how it tasted. ‘Do you think it’s significant at all that she’s in the picture? Or was it just a random, surreptitious creep shot?’

‘Creep shot. No, if anything, it was just to, I don’t know, mock me. The general tone of their messages has been, uh, foreboding homophobia.’

‘And you think – do you think the person was there? At the party?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just – I’m not sure. If it was just to do with me, and just me? Then yeah, definitely. But Dad – if it has to do with my dad then I don’t know. I just don’t know.’

‘They would have had to know there was a party.’

I nodded. ‘And that I was going to be there.’