Page 48 of Breaking Through

"Photogenesiswants to feature your Michigami State Park series."

Parker's words hit me like a gust of October wind. My coffee mug wobbled dangerously in my suddenly numb fingers, and I set it down before I could add another stain to his already mottled desk blotter.

"That's not—" I had to clear my throat to continue. "They're just daily shots. My morning ritual is like practice for bigger and better things."

"Daily shots?" Parker spun his laptop around, displaying my latest uploads. The screen glowed with images I knew by heart: dawn mist rising off Eagle Point, a red fox paused mid-stride on North Trail, Wade's silhouette against storm clouds as he secured the shelter doors. "These aren't mere snapshots, Holden. You've documented the park's soul spring through fall."

"With a Polaroid Now camera," I grumbled. "It's not even professional equipment."

"That's exactly what makes it compelling." Parker's eyes lit up. "It's the immediacy, imperfection, and how you truly see yoursubject because you only get one chance—" He grinned. "To be honest, that's almost word for word what their editor said in her email."

"You've already had direct contact with them?"

"Nina Chen fromPhotogenesisfollowed us on Instagram last month." Parker pulled up the message thread. "I didn't think much of it at first—lots of media people have been followingTales. Then, she started specifically commenting on your park documentation posts."

He scrolled through the comments. "See? She picked up on how you capture the same locations in different seasons and different weather. She called it a masterclass in seeing a place through time.'"

"It comes out that way because I'm there every morning. It's easier to get intriguing shots in the park than downtown."

"No, listen." Parker leaned forward, nearly knocking over his coffee in his enthusiasm. "Last week, she messaged me directly. She wanted to know whether you'd ever considered showing your work professionally. Said something about how using technology accessible to everyone, professional or not, to document environmental changes creates a unique photographic view of our world."

I blinked. "Environmental changes?"

"Your storm damage series, Holden. You had some awesome before and after shots of the north trail reconstruction. You also documented how the park service adapted trails for accessibility." He smiled. "They're not just pretty pictures. They tell a story of how people and wilderness interact. Nina got that immediately."

"So you've been plotting with a magazine editor behind my back?" I tried to sound stern, but Parker's excitement was too infectious.

"I wanted to make sure it was legitimate before saying anything." He had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "Did some research first. Nina's got a solid reputation in the industry. She's known for spotting unconventional talent." His grin widened. "And get this—she grew up in Wisconsin. She spent summers hiking in Michigami State Park with her grandfather. She says your photos capture perfectly what she remembers about discovering the trails as a kid."

I blinked. "She really gets it then."

"She does." Parker continued describing how he helped push the idea forward. "I suggested they do a phone interview with you next week. And then she started talking about a gallery showing in Portland if the feature does well."

Portland. The word echoed in my chest like footsteps in an empty room. Portland, with its artisan coffee shops, gallery walks, and all the dreams I'd packed away when I moved to Blue Harbor.

"You know who this reminds me of?" Parker pulled up an image on his second screen. "I remember when Theo started showing his lake paintings at the Bean. That started not long before you arrived in town. It was an expansion of his gallery near our offices. They were just quick studies he did while Rafe experimented with pastries. Now he's got galleries in Seattle calling."

"And tonight's his big preview," I said, finally understanding why Sarah had been even more excited than usual. A few frames had been hanging on the walls covered with brown paper for days while Theo installed his new series.

"Exactly. From coffee shop walls to Seattle galleries. Sometimes the best opportunities start small." Parker's eyes twinkled. "Though between you and me, I think Rafe's more excited about premiering his new art-inspired pastry line than Theo is about the actual show."

I'd barely taken a breath when my phone chimed. It was a text from Maria.

Surprise visit from your parents. Your father's critiquing my coffee technique, and your mother's alphabetizing the spice rack. Send help.

"Speaking of surprises." I stared at Maria's message, and my hand started to shake. "My parents are supposed to be in London until December. Dad's overseeing the new corporate offices there."

"Wait, what?" Parker leaned across his desk and looked at my phone. "Didn't your mom just post pictures from some fancy Thames River dinner cruise?"

"Three days ago." I rubbed my chin. "They haven't been back to Blue Harbor since..." I swallowed hard. "Since before Gran died."

Parker's excitement about the magazine dimmed slightly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just..." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's a lot: the magazine, Portland gallery possibilities, and now my parents showing up without warning. Mom never does anything without a detailed itinerary."

"Maybe she wanted to see what we're covering in the blog in person. Your mom's been leaving a lot of comments lately."

That was true. She'd gone from formal monthly check-in calls to engaging with my posts, asking questions about techniques and composition. It was like she was finally seeing me as an artist, not just her wayward son who'd abandoned Portland's gallery scene to care for his grandfather.

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