Chapter 5
“Your name?” Mr. Schultz asked as I sat on the stool and faced the camera lens.
“Isla Kiehl.”
Earlier that morning, Ms. Hardin had returned the exam booklets—each one stamped with the “PASSED” seal—to the four elder girls in our class and sent us to the identity station to be photographed. Each girl was to sit straight on a wooden stool and look directly into the lens without smiling. She should then turn for a profile portrait. We would get two copies of each shot, one pair for Ms. Hardin and the other pair to keep. I planned to give mine to Papa.
Mr. Schultz smiled beneath his white mustache. “A Kiehl, you are. I remember your older sister, always out with that Combs girl.” He looked down at the camera and clicked the shutter. “Go downstairs to the front booth for your dupl
