“Page seventeen.” I flip to the page. Another crying photo of Jane. This time she’s in her childhood home and at the foot of her bed. Face beet-red and mouth in an opened scream. She was a cute kid—even crying. My lips begin to really lift. “Why are you smiling?” Rose snaps at me. My mouth flattens. “Because I think my girlfriend’s baby pictures are cute.” Jane brightens like radiant sunlight. Rose nods strongly. “She was a very cute baby.”
