The back of the frame yielded a faded stamp: Aldous Pembridge & Associates, Harley Row, 1895. Nora spent hours navigating digital archives of London businesses until she located the surviving business ledgers of the Pembridge studio. Her hands trembled slightly as she scrolled through the scanned pages, finally landing on the Calloway entry.
The photographer’s notes were precise, almost clinical: “Both girls present and cooperative. Younger subject required three attempts due to movement.” Nora exhaled, the sound loud in the quiet room. The younger girl had been alive. She read on, expecting a name to settle the matter, but her eyes snagged on the final lines of the entry. The older girl was recorded clearly: Margaret, aged 8. But the younger girl? She was listed only as “second subject.” No name. No age.
Nora flipped through the rest of the ledger, scanning every other entry for that year. Every other client was identified by full name, parentage, and address. The younger girl was a ghost in the records—a singular, unnamed void in the heart of a prominent Victorian family. Nora stared at the screen, a new, sharp curiosity replacing her earlier dread.