Chapter One: The Ninth Photograph

He walked close and stared at her clean cheek. There was no black tear, no tape. The green screen was smooth. A dust-covered wind machine sat to the left. “Did you kneel just now?” “No.” “Did you do this?” He pressed a finger to his lips. Lin laughed once, then became wary. “What did you shoot?” He handed her the camera. Nine thumbnails stood in a tidy row. She swiped more slowly with each frame. At the last one, her fingertip hovered without touching the screen. “That isn't me.” “It has your face.” “I'm telling you, that isn't me.” She removed the mask, revealing short hair stuck down by sweat. Shen noticed a pale scar at the end of her right eyebrow. The woman in the photographs had no scar.