Allison stirred from her reverie, and when she finally retrieved the print from the water bath, she saw a page from The Globe dated a day in advance. The article reported how the bodies of Frank and Rose Boothman had been found in a Dorchester alley between two shuttered stores. Rose was out on bail pending a particularly disturbing allegation of child abuse. Police were almost a constant presence at the couple’s home, as Frank had several charges of domestic abuse. Detectives believe that the couple killed each other ending their long-standing record of domestic violence.

“Well, I suppose that’s good news, Vanessa. I guess I don’t need to worry about that.” Allison exhaled. “I don’t think I’m up to saving the world, my love. I’m sorry. I know I’m letting you down, but it’s going to take a while for me to get over this. I think I just need to sleep.” With that, Allison emptied the solution trays and cleaned her space. She determined to avoid the photo lab for a while.

Mark Phillips knew he didn’t like Allison Winn for some reason; now Vanessa had showed him why. Ever since that sad, sad day, she appeared to him in his dreams. The love that escaped them in life, like the receding tide waters, had washed over him at night in the deepest shade of purple. The memories of his dreams had more than once aided him when he lay with his wife of 20 years. When he and Vanessa talked, she was solid and warm, not at all translucent like when he saw her in the photo lab when he was alone. At first, his wife had been jealous of his students when he took this teaching job at the all-women’s college. She knew that the young women, many of them devoid of a father figure in their lives, would be too great a temptation for his vanity. She knew this. But the obsession with Vanessa had truly surprised her. Mark admitted that he’d actually fallen in love with this one. Vanessa rebuffed his advances and knowing of her husband’s immaturity, she knew his ‘love’ was just his thirst for the unattainable. Such was the understanding between Mark and his wife. They could stray to the ends of the earth as long as they returned to each other in the end. Mark Phillips loved that about his wife. She tethered him. She stood by him when his indiscretions at the college occasionally got out of hand. Her father’s endowments insured that, while he’d never be tenured, he could never be dismissed.