Following the light backward
From the second patch, June looked along the direction opposite its shadows. Above the garden wall stood the upper windows of a neighboring studio. One pane flashed brightly when she shifted her head. She could not see inside, and she did not try. Instead she left a note at the studio's front door asking whether anyone had noticed light reflecting into the next garden.
The owner, Ravi, came over that afternoon. He restored old furniture and had recently returned a tall mirror to its usual place beside the upstairs window. The mirror belonged to the house's former tenant, Ada, who had lent it to him while she moved. Its silvered surface was angled toward the window, where morning sunlight could reach it.
June's first guess was that the mirror had accidentally produced the second patch. Ravi was less certain. Ada had once asked him not to alter its angle until she collected it. He had assumed she was protecting the frame from a draft. Together they compared the times in her notebook with the mornings when the studio shutters had been open.
The matches were close, but one detail remained unexplained. Ada's last entry mentioned a blue cup and the words 'right place at last.' June wondered whether the light had been intended as a signal to someone in the studio. Ravi offered to telephone Ada and ask directly.