She looks down at her hands, thinking how ridiculous she must look in these glittery red shoes. (There's no place like home. There's no place like home.) A wave of emotion rises in her chest and throat, and she closes her eyes, willing it back down.

'Sam figured it out, didn't he? The other pictures on that roll of film. They were his pictures.' Clearly, it wasn't Gene taking snapshots for his scrap book. Who else could it have been? 'He left them for you.'