There are so many bits I love in this (like Maria-the-genius, Howard's apathy, Obadiah redefining his role, Christine caring despite of herself, the time line, and how her conclusions keep shifting with each new piece she uncovers) but man, this:

...Christine imagines that the black of the frame brings out hidden shapes: whenever she looks at that photograph, Christine swears she can see the mountains of Los Alamos, ambition and history and dreaming like shadows behind Maria and her son.

That last line is fucking killer, just the perfect sort of ending, the one that's not, because Christine can't fully define Tony, can't draw a single conclusion, because real people can't exist as archetypes for very long, no matter how hard Tony tries.