It was the relief of a person who no longer has to manage a secret.

Because I had been carrying the Hollis family’s real face alone for two months — had known what was under the photo and had to keep it to myself, smiling at dinners, while the weight of it grew.

And now it was out.

Now it belonged to everyone: to the police, to the neighbors, to the record, to the daylight.

It was not my burden anymore.

It was simply, at last, the truth, sitting in plain view under the neighbors’ porch lights, where a thing like that should always have been allowed to sit.