Have Tyler make a backup

You sink into Tyler’s thoughts. He’s riding a wave of adrenaline he’s never experienced. He feels like he’s part of an elite circle, a secret society of adults who see things the rest of the world misses. You nudge a thought into the forefront of his mind: The session will end. The Carters will leave. And all these images—the girls, the 'accident' with Lisa, the shared glances—will go with them. Unless you take them.

Tyler’s eyes dart to the dual-slot memory card bay on the side of the Canon. He knows Lisa’s workflow; she’ll likely format the cards once she’s backed them up at home. He realizes he can swap the secondary card or simply "offer" to handle the digital transfer to his laptop to "save her time."

"Alright, that’s a wrap on the pool deck!" Lisa calls out, standing up and stretching her back. The movement makes her top pull tight again, and Tyler’s gaze lingers for a split second too long. "Mike, start breaking down the stands. Kenzie, help me with the lenses. We need to be cleared out before your dad returns."

"I'll handle the digital backup, Lisa," Tyler says, his voice remarkably steady. "I can run the cards through my rig inside. It’s faster than your laptop, and I can have a cloud-link ready for you by the time you get home."

Lisa wipes a smudge of sunscreen from her forehead, looking at the boy with a mix of exhaustion and appreciation. "You're a lifesaver, Tyler. Truly. Just... be careful with the raw files. They’re sensitive." The wink she gives him tells you she knows exactly why I wants to handle the backup.

"Trust me," Tyler murmurs, his thumb brushing the camera's card door. "I know exactly how sensitive they are."