“Ah, here,” I say, finding the image that’s paperclipped to a folded-up piece of paper. I carefully detach the flimsy half-picture of a woman sitting on a dock. Her back is turned, so all you can see is her feminine silhouette and long, dark hair hanging in a thick braid down her back. “Be careful, it’s delicate,” I say, handing the photo to Dottie. “My cousin Finn has access to the photo lab at UNLV, and he said he could restore it. But it'd be so much better if we had the other half.”
Its dottie
