He pulled up the image on the monitor. Millie hopped off the stool, padded over, and peered at the screen.

"That one," she said quietly. "Print that one."

He clicked the first few frames as she settled onto the stool. Standard stuff. Chin up. Shoulder back. The Stranger Things gaze—that thousand-yard stare into the Upside Down. She gave it to him on a silver platter. It was technically perfect. It was also a mask.