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Caoimhe typed some more. In the reflection from her glasses, Tessa saw the screen populating with dark lines she assumed was text.

“I’ve given Rose a go, and there are a few records,” Caoimhe said. “Do you know where she served by chance?”

“A hospital in France, I think,” Tessa told her.

Caoimhe clicked something, but the screen didn’t appear to change. “That doesn’t quite narrow it down. Let’s try Rosie.”

She typed again. Tessa turned her face toward the ceiling and prayed. Was there a saint for past lives? Whoever they were, she needed their help now.

“Oh, only one result,” Caoimhe said. “Rosie Horan, born here in Derry in 1894. She passed away in 1975, and her family left her things from the Great War here for preservation since she had no descendants. Would you like to take a look?”

Tessa’s heart leaped. “Very much.”

“Right this way, then.”

Caoimhe rose from her seat and beckoned Tessa to follow her. Tessa didn’t hesitate. She followed Caoimhe into a room behind the desk. She glanced around to see a small storeroom of boxes on shelves lining the walls. They were organized by date. Tessa’s eyes landed on the World War I box before Caoimhe reached it. A desk stood in the center of the room, where Caoimhe put the box down and opened it up. Some dust plumed up from the disturbance. Tessa watched Caoimhe finger through file after file until she reached one.

“Ah, here it is,” she said, pulling it free and placing it on the desk. “Rosie Horan’s file.”

“May I?” Tessa asked as she approached.

“Certainly,” Caoimhe said. “I’m afraid I can’t let you check it out, but you can look through it.”

Tessa nodded, stepping up to stand beside the desk. With a trembling hand, she flipped open the manila file folder, browned with age, to reveal several documents, also dried and tinted from the years. First, she saw Rosie’s birth certificate. Then her records from the war where she signed up to serve. To know for sure if this was the Rosie, Tessa needed—

There it was. A photograph. Through the age, grain, and sepia tones, she recognized her own face. She looked rather grimly at the camera, her expression stern beneath the nurse’s cap. The photo wasn’t in color, but Tessa remembered the colors of the uniform—gray, white, and red crosses. She also remembered ending up with more red splattered across the apron before the day was done.

“Oh my, you’re certainly a relative,” Caoimhe said, peering over Tessa’s shoulder. “That’s quite the resemblance.”

“Aye, so it is,” Tessa said, her voice hoarse with emotion.

Her eyes welled up when she saw the nurse beside Rosie and found Jamie. Or Dinah, as she was called then. There it was, in black and white. Them together over a century ago. The things they remembered were not imagined. It was real. It was all real.

“Could I take a picture?” Tessa asked. “To send to my ma?”

“Of course, love,” Caoimhe said, patting her shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

Tessa plucked her phone from her pocket and snapped a photo of the old picture. She texted Jamie.

Look at us!

Jamie first sent several mind-blown emoji.

Jamie

Holy shit! Where did you find that?

This magical place called the public library.

Incredible. D’you think we have one in London? lol

Can’t hurt to look

Seriously, Tess. What an amazing find. Thank you for sending it to me.

I wish I could bring it home, but alas, it’s library property now.

You mean they wouldn’t believe you if you said you’re the woman in the picture reincarnated? Bastards!