Chapter 10 - THE MIDPOINT REVELATION
I stared at that photograph for a long time.
The man stood partially in shadow. Tall, broad‑shouldered, dark hair pulled back from his face. He wore a dark coat. He looked like he did not belong in a hospital room filled with flowers and joy. He looked like he had come to take something away.
And Elena had written on the back: Him.
I called Sarah immediately. I told her about the photograph. About the man. About the single word.
“Bring it to my office,” she said. “Now.”
I arrived twenty minutes later. Sarah spread the photograph on her desk and leaned over it with a magnifying glass. She studied the man’s face, his posture, his hands. Then she pulled up a database on her computer and began running facial recognition.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then the computer beeped.
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Sarah’s face went pale.
She turned the monitor toward me.
