“Did anyone take a picture of the screen before she deleted it?” I asked.

Beatrice reached into her purse and took out a small black cell phone with a cracked screen.

“I don’t know how to save things,” Beatrice said, her thumb hovering over the buttons.

“But Clara was sitting next to me, and Clara saves everything.”

“Where’s Clara now?” I asked.

“She went home to Scottsdale,” Beatrice said.

“She was crying in the bathroom because she has a granddaughter Lily’s age.”

“Give me her number,” I said, pulling my flooring estimate pad out of my back pocket.