Five Audited Bank Receipts Proved What Julian Had Done Before Noah Was Born

I pushed a wooden hanger into the shoulders of the coat.

“Who moved the silver frames on the mantel?” Eleanor asked.

“The cleaning service was here at noon,” I said.

I walked over to the fireplace.

Eleanor was straightening a vintage photograph of Julian at five, sitting on a porch step and holding a wooden toy car.

“The border on that picture is cut unevenly,” I said.

I pointed to the left edge of the silver frame.

A thin sliver of a man had been cropped out of the picture.