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I aim it to shine directly into the trunk.

Margo rummages through it, pulling out my mom’s things. As she gets closer to the bottom, there’s a stack of photos. Margo flips through them quickly and sets them to the side. Then, she goes back to digging in the trunk. Before I know it, the trunk is empty.

There’s nothing. No clues. No proof of my dad. There isn’t even anything that would show I was a part of her life. She didn’t hold on to a baby outfit or pictures of me. It’s like I didn’t exist in her world.

Margo sits back, chewing on her lip.

“Are there any other boxes with things from your mom?”

I shake my head. “Grandma didn’t keep reminders of my mom around.” My mom wasn’t exactly a role model. Grandma only kept a couple family pictures from when she was younger. Everything else was in this trunk.

“Well, let’s put this back, and I’ll look around a little more. Maybe there’s a clue somewhere.” I can tell by the tone in her voice she isn’t hopeful.

She starts to put the clothes and shoes back in, but when she gets to the photos, she pauses.

“What is it?” I ask. The pictures are just of my mom, young, with friends. None of them are guys.

She holds up a photo. “Do you know who this is?”

“No.”

She smiles. “Well, we need to find out.”

“Why?”

She shakes the photo a little. “Look at this. Does anything look odd?”

It’s just a picture of my mom and her friend on their graduation day. There’s nothing special about it. I shake my head.

“This isn’t the same size as the other pictures. Look closer. Someone’s been cut out.”

I take the photo and study it. She’s right. There’s an extra hand around my mom’s waist like someone else is supposed to be in it.

“We need to figure out who your mom’s friend is because I’m ninety-nine percent sure whoever got cut out of this photo is your dad.”

My heart stops.

Could she be right? Are we really that close to finding him?

“Well, what do we do now?” I ask, knowing Margo is already five steps ahead of me. She’s like a chess player already seeing the win in sight.

“We could show your grandma the picture. Maybe she’ll recognize the girl. I mean she’s in half of these, so your grandma has to know her.”

“It just depends on the day.”

Margo chews at her lip. “Is there anyone that would know? What about your cousin?”

I shake my head. “My mom lived in Seattle growing up and hardly saw them. They didn’t move here until I was born. I doubt she knows anything.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask. But if she doesn’t, we have other options. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have a digital footprint. There’s always a trail. We just have to find it.” She starts to put away the boxes she moved. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up. I have to be home by four.”

She wants to leave already? I thought we were on to something. I figured we’d keep looking. This feels too soon.

“You have plans later?” I don’t know why I asked. Of course she does.

“Annie and I are going to the movies. I promised her, and I don’t want to be late.”

That’s a perfectly reasonable excuse. She’s not trying to get away. She has no choice but to leave. She made a promise, and I respect her for keeping it. Most people I know don’t know how to keep those.