“Yeah.” He seems confused by my intensity. “We did them when we were bored one day over the summer. Just screwing around.”

Really? Cameron doesn’t look like she was killing time to me. She had a purpose of some kind, even if I can’t yet identify it. “I think they’re good. She doesn’t even look like herself.”

Gray brightens. “I did her makeup. I got a new camera for my birthday. She shot some of me, too.”

“Why did you choose this place? Had you been there before?”

He shakes his head. “It was her idea. I thought it was creepy at first, but the light was supercool.”

“The shoot was her idea, too?”

“I think so. I don’t remember how it came up.”

“I don’t recognize that outfit on Cameron, do you?”

“She brought it over with her. She’d just been to a thrift store.”

“Gray.” I put my coffee down, needing his complete attention. “These don’t look like thrift-store clothes. And even if they were, if she brought them over, it’s likely she had a clear objective in mind.”

“I don’t get it. Why?”

“That’s a great question. Had she ever talked about the grove before? Do you remember what she said when she suggested it?”

“No.” His forehead wrinkles. I can tell my questions are scaring him. He clearly hasn’t registered the possible significance of this day in Cameron’s disappearance and now is worried he missed something important, a chance to help me, a chance to find his friend.

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to ease his mind. “Tell me, did Cameron ever talk about wanting to do modeling?”

“She wasn’t tall enough. She knew that.”

“I don’t mean the practical side of her, Gray.” As I fumble for the right words, Di Anne sits down, closing her robe with her hands.

“Honey, I think Anna’s asking if Cameron ever dreamed about that kind of life for herself. You know, the way kids your age do, wanting to travel the world, be famous, meet interesting people? Do something wonderful.”

Gray blinks, his eyelashes spiked with mascara, the makeup subtle, almost invisible, but not quite. “Sometimes we both talked like that, sure. Her mom was always so negative about Hollywood and being beautiful, a celebrity, but sometimes Cameron and I talked about how cool it would be to be discovered like Emily was. To have money enough to go anywhere we wanted together. Doesn’t everyone want that, though?”

“I’ve never met anyone your age who doesn’t have some sort of fantasy they like to imagine,” I tell him, “no matter how impossible it feels, how far away. The tougher the real world, the more important that dream becomes. Do you know what I mean?”

“The stuff she was struggling with? Her parents lying to her all the time, and the bits of memories coming back.”