Page 6 of All The Broken Pieces: Vol. 1

Chapter 6

“It didn’t bother me. There was a—” I’m about to say ‘spider’ but the girl’s face makes me tell the truth. I don’t want to lie to her. She’s been kind to me, never took advantage of my bereavement. Even when I stupidly showed up for work and couldn’t do more than sit there.

I change what I’m saying with a sigh, “Listen, I saw a picture of Zach that I don’t remember taking. That’s all. I wish I could remember.” I need to remember, because that can’t be a new shot. That makes no sense.

“There’s a way to pull EXIF data from a picture, you know. If you can’t remember where it was taken, or when.” She speaks like this is common knowledge. Maybe it is to her, but it’s not to me.

Jaw gaping, I smile politely. “Exit data?”

Aleigha shakes her head, making her dark hair tumble over her shoulders. She shoves it away like it’s annoying. “EX-IF,” she over-enunciates the IF at the end of the word, “data is like metadata that’s stored in the photograph. Digital images have a file hidden in the actual picture. It tells you a bunch of information like what kind of camera took the picture, the exposure, lens, aperture, location, date, and a bunch of other stuff.”

“Oh,” I kind of want to ask her about it, but decide it’s inappropriate to ask her to help me figure out when and where the picture was taken. Okay, I’m lying. I’d totally ask her, but I don’t want her asking questions about Zach, about my scar, or what happened.

“I can pull it for you,” she offers. “I watch this guy on YouTube. He’s a pro photographer and he talks about this at length in one of his videos. I wouldn’t mind helping you pull it”

“Thanks, but I’ll just look up how to do it. It’s personal, but thank you. I didn’t realize there was that much information in an image.” I sound like my mother. Technology passed me by, and I didn’t even notice. Exit data. Geeze.

“There is, unless someone stripped it. Like I said, YouTube. Search for Cole’s Camera Class and you’ll find the video.” She beams at me. “I’m off to lunch. If you change your mind, just ask.” Aleigha gathers her things and is out the door.

As soon as I’m alone, my heart starts slamming into my chest hard enough to bruise a lung. I know what I saw. It was him. I’m left feeling shaken, with a thin sheen of sweat on my skin that has nothing to do with the balmy spring air. It scares me. I barely made it through Zara’s death, then when Zach died—my God.

My hand is touching the thin scar that divides my right cheek into two planes. Separated by a single event. The pads of my fingers trace the thin line as I stare, unseeing at the cinderblock walls. There’s no pale-yellow paint. No flickering fluorescents above. Time stops and turns back. I’m there in Grand Cayman, smiling. Feeling so angry, spitting the words at him in the dive shop. I hate you. Zach storms off, planning to dive without me, and disappears into the back room to get his gear. Then, an ear-piercing crack rumbles me to my core, causing me to turn toward the sound. That horrifying noise. I sway on my feet.

Then, nothing.

No sound.

No sight.

Just a cloud of unbreathable ash, searing my lungs. And the mirror that hung on the wall, the one I’d been looking into, bursts. It fractures before I can blink, splintering into an array of flashing, flying shards. A metal support beam crashes behind me, shaking the floor and making chunks of concrete go airborne. If I didn’t turn toward the sound of the explosion, I’d be dead. Instead, I’m left breathing with an angry scar on my face.

Swallowing hard, I force my hand down. Breathe. Blink. Stop this foolishness. He’s gone. They’re both dead. I chide myself and try to shake the shiver that’s kissed my skin, but I can’t. No matter how much I want to say that was Zach—that he’s alive and I saw him in a picture today—logically I know it’s not possible. I’d write it off to a Facebook glitch. That makes the most sense, but there’s one glaring problem.

I’ve never seen that photo before.