The kind of access strangers weren’t supposed to have.
The kind of access that existed long before my father’s arrest.
Long before foster care and Ohio. Long before any of this.
A sick feeling settled into my stomach because suddenly every photo felt different.
Every moment felt different and every moment felt different.
Casey immediately turned toward his laptop.
“I’m checking camara’s.” Casey said.
“Find something?” Blade asked.
Casey began typing rapidly and the rest of us waited. Minutes passed and nobody said much. The tension felt heavy and eventually Casey stopped typing before his expression darkened.
“What?” I asked as Casey looked up.
“The cameras were disabled.” Casey said.
“For how long?” I asked. So Casey checked again and then frowned.
“Four minutes.” He
