“Hello?” I said, tucking the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached for the dish towel.
“Ma’am, it’s Rick Brennan. David and Jessica’s wedding photographer.”
His voice did not match the easy, charming professional I remembered from that day. It was tighter now, strained, like every word had been dragged over gravel before it reached me.
“Oh. Hello, Rick. Is everything okay?” I asked.
There was a pause, just long enough for my heart to start beating faster.
“Ma’am, I found something in the photos. Come to my studio tonight. Please don’t tell your son yet. You need to see this first.”
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