Logan Flinner, left, and Lane Flinner flank mom Amanda Lane in their Milton-Freewater home.
The photo shows two boys grinning into the camera and displaying the rotund robots they've just assembled at Walt Disney World.
It captures a slice of the dream vacation Lane Flinner, 13, and his younger brother Logan, 12, recently took to Florida with their parents and other family members.
And it's one moment of Lane Flinner's second chance at life.
Rewind to 2020, when it didn't seem like things could get worse. Lane's mom, Amanda, a teacher in Milton-Freewater, was adjusting to teaching online after COVID-19 shuttered school buildings in March that year.
Lane, age 9, was into Legos, playing soccer and building treehouses with his grandfather.
School was a constant favorite of the little boy with the wide smile, but now everything was different and uncertain.
More uncertainty was to come.
Lane had been at his dad's house for four days when he returned home with a neck "swollen out to his chin," Amanda recalled.
She was assured her son's bloodwork showed no concerns, but days later more symptoms said otherwise. Emergency room providers thought it was probably a sinus infection; a course of antibiotics was begun.
This didn't sit right with his worried parents.
"I was at work on a Saturday and Lane's dad, Jim Flinner, called and said, 'What if we take him to Spokane?' And so we did," Amanda said.
Imaging done at Sacred Heart Children's Hospital revealed every parent's nightmare -- Lane had acute lymphoblastic leukemia, the most common childhood cancer.
With the diagnosis came instant transport to their new reality. Amanda and Lane didn't return home for another year.
Explaining to Lane what was happening was just one challenge. How would she continue to pay her bills? What would insurance cover? How would Logan handle his mom and brother being absent from his life?
That October visitors weren't allowed into hospital rooms -- Amanda and Lane had to be a frontline of two.
Reinforcements came, as they almost always do.
Amanda can't say enough, for example, about the excellent wraparound care her family received at Sacred Heart: lodging, insurance guidance, social workers who helped with program applications and made sure Lane had what he needed on his many inpatient days.
There was no way to continue teaching, online or no, Amanda said.
"I couldn't commit, and it wouldn't have been fair to students. I just had to prioritize my family," she said.
Family medical and personal leave got used up, but Amanda's employer found a way to save space for her teaching position.
Thank goodness, she said with a small laugh.
"I was millions of dollars in debt. Our first bills were $60,000 and $70,000 because of all the chemotherapy and platelets infusions," she added.
Amanda hates seeking help. She refused to use social media to draw attention to her son's illness, and never, ever wanted folks to get the wrong perception of her family. It seemed easier to stay silent.
Help was there, nonetheless. Through community fundraisers. Through Lane's friends, who sent letters and an Xbox. An iPad was purchased for Logan so he could talk with his brother face to face, miles apart.
"Those connections stayed woven together. The community did a really good job of making it feel like we were just gone for the weekend," Amanda said.
There was the insurance rep who helped her apply for gas and grocery cards, and the school district payroll specialist who kept Amanda on top of the paperwork.
"As bad as it was, as bad as it is, this really gives you perspective. ... You learn the things that are more important when the world stops," she said.
Then it restarted. Not without setbacks, including an airlift back to Spokane and monthly trips there for treatment. Daily shots at home became the norm.
In January 2023, Lane could claim one year of being cancer-free. His family, finally, could scoot back from being at the border of "crazy," Amanda said.
Both sons bear the impact of childhood cancer, she knows. Lane, now an eighth grader, has a subtle but firm confidence. Logan carries a mature stoicism beyond his age.
Thanks to Make-A-Wish of Oregon, however, the brothers could immerse into the decidedly kid-centric world of Marvel Comics heroes, Star Wars magic, rides and wonders of Disney World and Universal Studios on that five-day trip in October.
It was everything it promised to be, Logan and Lane agreed as their droids skittered across their bedroom floors.
Putting together the little robot hints at Lane's adult career plan of engineering work for the military.
It's a luxury to think that far ahead, he now knows. Cancer, Lane said, has made him think about everything more. It has bestowed an empathy he expects to last a lifetime.
Nonetheless, he is in middle school. And whether it comes on his Christmas Eve birthday or the day after, Lane's biggest wish this year is to receive permission to have a phone, he said with that generous smile and a sideways glance at his mom.
For her, the blessings have already been delivered -- having healthy boys together under one roof in one town. This town, in particular.
"It was being in this community that really got us through this," she said.