DAMIEN'S POV
February brought the Henry Chen show's opening in Vancouver.
We flew up the Thursday before, Elara and I, with Robert Chen on the same flight though he'd booked separately and we found him at the gate reading the catalogue proof he'd been carrying everywhere since January.
He looked up when we sat nearby. "I've read it four times."
"Finding errors?" Elara asked.
"Finding things I missed the first three times." He closed it. "There's a photograph on page forty-seven. My father at his studio in 1981. I didn't know that photograph existed until Patricia found it in the archives."
"What does he look like?"
"Like himself. Exactly like himself." He paused. "That sounds obvious."
"It's not obvious. Some people don't look like themselves in photographs."
He looked at her for
