A candid photograph beside a motorcycle.
Blue scarf around her neck.
The crescent birthmark visible.
Kendra hesitated.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Ask Adeline later if that's who she sees.”
“You think I haven't already shown her online?”
“Have you?”
“No.”
“Then don't show her the photo.”
Kendra looked confused.
He continued:
“Put it with several others.”
She understood.
A test.
The leader seemed embarrassed.
“I need to know.”
“So do I.”
The elevator opened.
Adeline skipped inside.
As the doors closed, she looked toward the leader.
“Claire says your beard looked better shorter.”
His hand went immediately to his beard.
Kendra laughed despite herself.
The doors closed.
At home, Kendra conducted the test.
She printed eight photographs of women.
Similar age.
Brown hair.
Different clothing.
Claire's photograph included.
She shuffled them.
Placed them face down.
Then called Adeline.
“What are these?”
“Pictures.”
“I want you to tell me if you recognize anyone.”
The girl flipped the first.
“No.”
Second.
“No.”
Third.
She paused.
Kendra’s heart stopped.
Not Claire.
Adeline frowned.
“She looks like my teacher.”
She did.
Kendra almost laughed.
Fourth.
No.
Fifth.
Claire.
Adeline smiled immediately.
“There she is.”
Kendra sat slowly.
“Who?”
“Claire.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
The child touched the photograph.
“She doesn't wear that scarf anymore.”
Kendra's pulse quickened.
“What does she wear now?”
Adeline looked confused.
“Nothing like that.”
“What does that mean?”
“It's light.”
Kendra stopped.
No.
She was not asking a six-year-old to describe the afterlife.
She gathered the photographs.
Adeline held Claire’s.
“Can I keep it?”
“Why?”
“She said this was her favorite one.”
Kendra checked the back.
Nothing.
She called the leader.
“Was the motorcycle picture Claire’s favorite photograph?”
Silence.
“How did you know?”
Kendra closed her eyes.
“Apparently she told Adeline.”
The leader swore softly.
Then laughed.
“She hated having her picture taken.”
“But that one?”
“She kept a copy in her wallet.”
Kendra looked toward her daughter.
Adeline was placing the photograph beside a toy horse.
Over the next several weeks, the story spread despite everyone's attempts to contain it.
The deputy told his wife.
One paramedic told another.
Twenty bikers had witnessed enough that secrecy was impossible.
Someone posted vaguely online.
Little princess saved one of our brothers today. Some things I can't explain.
Local gossip did the rest.
Kendra began receiving messages.
Some kind.
Some invasive.
A woman asked whether Adeline could contact her dead husband.
Kendra blocked her.
Another asked whether Adeline predicted lottery numbers.
Blocked.
A small paranormal podcast requested an interview.
Blocked.
Then a local reporter called.
Kendra refused.
School became complicated.
Another child asked Adeline if she could see dead people.
Adeline cried.
Kendra met with the teacher.
Then the principal.
“No one interviews her.”
The principal agreed.
“If anyone contacts the school?”