Page 115 of If You're Reading This
But before he could, the needle plunged into his neck.
Then everything went black.
Andi’s hands shook as she stepped into Morgan’s cabin.
Duke, Ranger, and Yazzie flanked her, weapons drawn, though they all knew the house would be empty. The killer had moved beyond games of hide-and-seek.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Duke asked as they moved through the living room.
“Something we missed.” Andi’s eyes swept the space, taking in Morgan’s carefully curated life—photography books, camera equipment, framed prints on the walls.
The filing cabinet in the corner caught her attention.
She pulled open one of the drawers.
Row after row of labeled film canisters, organized by date and location.
She began sorting through them.
“Here.” Andi found the date corresponding to Morgan’s recent series. “These are the photographs we know about—the ones the killer’s been re-creating.”
Duke looked over her shoulder as she pulled out several canisters full of negatives. “What are you thinking?”
“That maybe there are photographs he’s seen that we haven’t. Images that didn’t make it into the final series but showlocations this guy might use.” Andi’s fingers moved through the labels, looking for gaps or inconsistencies.
She finally found a canister labeled “Duality of Seasons—Unpublished” with a date that fell right in the middle of Morgan’s series timeline.
“This shouldn’t be here.” Andi held up the negatives. “The dates on the cannister show this was shot between two of the published photographs, but it never appeared in any gallery show.”
Ranger moved closer. “Can you tell what it is?”
“This is an enlarger,” Andi muttered, turning toward another machine. “I think I remember how to use this from my yearbook days in high school.”
“You weren’t digital back then?”
She opened the tray to put the negative on it. “My yearbook advisor was a purist and insisted we couldn’t go digital. Anyway, let’s see what I remember.”
She adjusted the film and sucked in a long breath. “Turn off the lights.”
Ranger did so.
She turned the machine on, and an image was projected on the wall.
It was of an ice cave with two ice columns on either side. However, one side of the structure was beginning to crumble—all because of humans who’d disrespected the space. Camping gear was left, as well as some litter.
“It’s beautiful,” Duke said quietly. “Why wouldn’t she publish this?”
Andi studied the composition more carefully. “I have a feeling there’s something personal about this image.”
The positioning of the ice columns—they told a story of loss and hope, of endings and beginnings.
“Because these photos weren’t just about the landscape. Look at the symbolism. It represents strength and weakness.” Andi felt pieces clicking into place. “This guy isn’t just recreating her photography. He’s completing her story. This is it. This is where he’s taking them.”
“But where is it?” Duke asked.
“I know the spot,” Ranger said. “I’ve been there before to do some training.”
“How long to get there?” Andi asked.
