once divided the cost of a sandwich and called it budgeting. I remembered a younger Elise putting the larger half on my plate because I had skipped lunch. I wondered how many memories could change shape without changing a single fact.
The library wall was still there. A bicycle rack occupied part of the pavement, and rain had darkened the lower bricks. Elise held up the photograph to compare the angle, then moved me six inches left.
“You weren’t looking at the camera,” I said.
“Priya took it too early.”
