Aurora’s POV “Open the folder. I need to see every photograph, every date, all of it,” I said, staring at the surveillance file bearing my name as it filled the main screen, my fingers tightening against the edge of the table. Steve hesitated for only a moment before expanding the first set of images. “These begin shortly after your parents’ deaths. The earliest frame was taken six weeks later,” he explained, his expression becoming more serious as the first photograph appeared. I stared at the screen. A little girl stood alone on a school playground, photographed from across the street. The next image showed the same child sitting at a birthday table while someone watched from outside the window. Then came school events, afternoons in the garden, university lecture halls, graduation, and even photographs taken in Edinburgh only months earlier. “They never stopped. Birthdays, school, university, graduation, my return from Scotland. Most of these were taken from a distance. I never
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