Lucas looked up sharply, but before Grandma could reply, Daisy cut in. “Mom’s just tired. She mixes things up sometimes,” she said lightly, already flipping the page. “That was from a beach trip.” Her voice was too bright, too fast. Lucas felt something inside him harden. The page had turned.
That night, while the house lay heavy with sleep, Lucas remained wide awake, mind racing. He couldn’t shake the image of that photo—the railing, the ocean, the dinosaur in his hand. He needed answers, not guesses. Silently, he crept into his father’s office, heart pounding, and opened the filing cabinet.