“I said I lost it.”
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Emma went quiet.
There were parts of my past I had spent decades packaging into neat little stories.
This was one of them.
I didn’t appreciate seeing it ripped open and decorated with string lights.
“Who sold you the camera?”
“Mom—”
“Who?”
Emma took a breath.
“He became interested when I told him it might have belonged to you.”
My stomach tightened further.
“He asked if he could meet you.”
I stared at her.
“And you said yes?”
“I thought maybe you knew each other.”
She hesitated.
“So I invited him to dinner.”
“You invited some man I’ve never met to dinner because he sold you an old camera?”
“I thought you might actually have known him.”
Emma lowered her voice.
“And honestly, you spend so much time taking care of everyone else. I thought maybe having someone new to talk to might be good for you.”
