The video reminded me that what had filled it, before it was a hole, had been something rare and whole and good.

Chapter 17 — The Detour

For a long moment neither of us could speak.

Then Abigail wiped her face and did the practical thing, the thing that was so like her, and began to look at what else the phone had quietly carried down out of the cloud.

“Dad’s account was still logged in,” she said, her voice unsteady.

“Everything synced.

Mom — look at this.