Margaux had been working on a documentary about light — specifically, the way it falls differently in the desert than anywhere else on earth. She had spent three weeks in Sedona before Declan arrived with a broken rented Jeep, a paper map, and the kind of hopelessly optimistic energy she'd been trying to photograph for months.

He asked her which trail would give him the best sunset. She told him he was asking the wrong question. He asked what the right question was. She said she didn't know yet, but she'd been working on it for three weeks.

They watched the sun drop behind Cathedral Rock in silence, and by the time the sky turned from orange to violet to that particular shade of blue that means night is coming, she had stopped looking at the light and started looking at him.

She never did finish the documentary. She made something else instead — this life, this story, this day.