Jack told Troy. “I can make a ton more prints if I want to.” “Thanks!” Troy clutched the wolf pictures as if it were Christmas and he’d just been given the keys to Wal-Mart. He stared at them for five full minutes as the van wound along the road toward the park’s north gate. Then, with much less interest, Troy examined the other three pictures. “Weird!” he said. “Red dots in the middle of each picture. Must be something wrong with your camera.” “No way,” Jack argued. “If it was the camera, there’d be red dots in the wolf pictures, too. And they are fine.” More than fine, he added in his own mind. They’re the best I’ve ever taken. Troy shrugged and handed the prints back to Jack, except for the wolf pictures, which he continued to grip tightly in his hand. “Let me see,” Ashley said. “The red dot ones.” She studied them for a long while before shoving them into the pocket of her sweatshirt. By then, her lips and eyes had both started to pucker. “How much farther?”
