They found the photos by accident.
After a few minutes of sitting, listening to Kori list all the ways the broken couch might betray them, Raizen's eyes drifted to the back wall.
A narrow shelf ran across it, holding a line of small frames. Some were newer, bright and clean. One in the middle looked different - sun-faded at the edges, plastic a little cloudy, corners worn like it had been picked up a lot.
Seven people stood shoulder to shoulder in that one.
The background looked like a training ground, but older - bare concrete, same cloudy sky, something that might have been the Academy before all the glass and luxury. No uniforms, just gear that somehow fit each of them perfectly.
Kori was there.
Younger. Hair a little shorter. Same mischievous grin. Tape on her knuckles even then.
Three faces had been scribbled over with thick black marker.
The ink lines were hard and deep enough to leave grooves in the picture.
But it didn't ruin it.
