Bernadette looks again at the picture. Sunlight fills the girl’s hair. The sand is pale and bright as snow, the sea turquoise. She longs suddenly to be in those white dunes, as if she had never seen anything like them before. She must remind herself that she was standing just outside the shot, that she chose the girl’s bathing suit.

“Have you ever noticed how meaningful these things can look?” she asks.

Jann laughs. “Have I noticed?” he says. “It’s my shot.”

Bernadette flips the picture back among the others. Her voice goes soft. “I meant in a general sense.”

“In a general sense,” says Jann, “that’s how they work.”