The practical part of me understood that.

The frightened part believed I should be awake whenever one of the girls might need something.

Neither part could remain in charge all the time.

Marcus’s photographs continued.

Sometimes he was alone.

Sometimes a hand or shoulder entered the edge of a frame.

Sometimes the image had been cropped in a way that drew attention to what he intended to remove.

One afternoon, I showed Nurse Sarah a photograph without speaking.