table with my laptop.
At first, I searched for places where Monica might be planning to sell that much produce.
Within twenty minutes, I found her name connected to a weekend community market.
But my mind kept returning to what she’d said.
The red light.
So I searched something else.
“Monica Daniel.”
Then I added their last names and the town where Daniel had grown up.
Most results were useless.
Then I found an old photograph.
It had been taken twenty-seven years ago.
I stared at the screen for a
