It waited in the heat, an object out of place. June, nineteen eighty-nine. In a sun-baked Florida parking lot, a woman stops. The air is thick with salt and hot tar. Lying face down on the asphalt is a single Polaroid photograph, its edges curled by the relentless sun.
She turns it over. And the ordinary day ends. A teenage girl and a young boy stare into the void. Their mouths are sealed with...
