Chapter 15

“Looks like a flipper,” Scott said.

Brandon held his breath as Cappie flipped to the next picture. The girl, still bare-chested and apparently smiling, but the picture was off center, like the photographer had noticed the anomaly behind her.

The final picture had the girl turned around to the lake, blurry, and blocking whatever had been making an appearance.

“Wait a second,” Scott said. He snatched the handful of pictures and flipped through them again, counting under his breath. “There’s only thirty-one shots here.”

“So?” Brandon asked.

“Your average roll of .35mm film takes sixteen, twenty, or thirty-six shots, depending on the film length.”

“Why call it thirty-five, then?” Cappie interrupted.

“That’s how wide it is,” Scott said with the air of someone explaining to a child that the sky was blue. “But what that means is there are a few shots from this roll of film missing.”

“Um, Brandon?” Aunt Ginny tapped him on the shoulder. “Moving on to the next unit.”