He tried twice more over the course of the afternoon. Nothing. That evening he sat at his kitchen table and turned it over from every direction. Four days. They’d been married four days. Diane’s voice on the phone, stripped and careful and revealing nothing. Samuel not answering. The specific quality of a silence that had something deliberate about it.
He was still sitting there when his phone rang. Unknown number. He picked up. “Mr. Callahan.” A woman’s voice, careful and low. “This is Carolyn Marsh. I photographed your daughter’s wedding on Saturday.” “Of course.” He sat forward. “What can I do for you, Carolyn?” The pause that followed lasted just long enough to change the quality of the air in the room.