She emptied its contents onto the conference table.
Photographs scattered across the polished wood.
Eleanor leaving restaurants.
Eleanor entering meetings.
Eleanor walking from her home.
Eleanor at the bakery.
And one photograph that made my stomach turn.
It showed me kneeling beside Eleanor on Route 18.
Taken from across the road.
Someone had been watching us the entire time.
PART 6 — THE PHOTOGRAPH WASN’T ABOUT ELEANOR
Daniel stared at the photograph longer than anyone else.
Then he picked it up using the edge of a folder.
“This wasn’t printed today.”
Claire shook her head.
“I found it six days ago.”
I stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
Claire looked equally confused.
“What do you mean?”
“That happened this morning.”
She went pale.
Daniel examined the image again.
Then suddenly held it closer.
“Christopher.”
“What?”
“Look at your coat.”
I looked.
The man kneeling beside Eleanor looked like me.
Same height.
