“Oh. Ah. Right. Er, lemme check the notes here. Born in San Diego to a Mark and Linda Walsh. Pops was a teacher; Mom stayed home. Her father’s retired now. She had a twin sister with a weird name but it says here that she, er, died.”
That catches my attention. “She had a twin?”
“Yeah, Z… Zi… Ziva Walsh. Died at seventeen.”
I glance down again at the photo in my hands. They look nothing alike. I wouldn’t have pegged them for sisters, let alone twins. But the way they’ve got their arms wrapped around each other suggests that their bond was forged early and made to last forever.
I realize belatedly that Carl is still talking. “Wait, what was that?”
“Oh, I was just saying that this chick is a travel writer. Freelance. She’s gotten offers from a handful of different companies for steady wr
