A package arrived for me, forwarded from the school. The return address was from the National Archives. Inside, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap, was a sketchbook. Not the original—that was evidence—but a perfect, high-quality photographic reproduction of every page of Luna's "Luna's Light" sketchbook.
A note was tucked inside from the prosecutor. "The court agreed that while the original must be retained, the family—and you—deserved to have this. Her talent should not be locked away in an evidence locker. Thank you for your courage."
I spent the afternoon slowly turning each page. Here was her mother's face, filled with love. Here was the plaza, alive with her energy. Here was the world as she saw it: not as a place of fear, but of profound beauty. It was the greatest gift I could have received. It wasn't a ghost's story; it was an artist's legacy. I had helped uncover the truth of her death, but this book held the truth of her life.