The click of Leo’s camera was a soft, final sound, a period at the end of a visual sentence. He was a ghost on the bustling city streets, his lens a silent confessional. He sought the unguarded moments: the weary smile of a barista, the triumphant grin of a skateboarder, the quiet despair of a businessman on a park bench.It began subtly. A woman in a crimson coat, laughing under an umbrella, her face a perfect study in joy. The photo developed in his darkroom with stunning clarity. But the next day, scanning the crowds at the same corner, she