The Gap

She tried to call Gavin three times. He did not answer.

She texted: Can we talk? No response. She called Myrna, who said he was fine, he was just busy with work, he was probably in meetings. She tried again. No response.

The photograph was still in the envelope on the kitchen table. Gavin outside their apartment building — not the one in the city, the old one, the one on Linden Street, from before. From when they were kids. From when everything was different.

Drake was telling her something. She did not know what it was yet, but she understood that Gavin was part of it — had been part of it, was maybe still part of it, in a way she did not understand. Her brother, who brought groceries and did not make it weird. Her brother, who had been there since September. Her brother, who had mentioned the storage unit casually, the way you mention something that does not matter.

She went back to the evidence log. She wrote: Ch 20 photograph of me. Ch 21 photograph of Gavin. Both sent to my address. Both without postmark. Timing connected.

She underlined connected. She needed it to be connected, because if it was connected, it was deliberate, and if it was deliberate, it was evidence, and if it was evidence, it was something she could use.

She did not write: I think Gavin knows something.

Not yet.