The front door opened before she reached the porch.
A woman stood in the doorway. Thirties. Dark hair. The expression of someone who has been expecting something and is now not sure she’s ready for it to arrive.
A small boy appeared behind her in the hallway, clutching a toy dinosaur. He looked about four or five.
“Grandpa?” he called.
Margaret’s knees went uncertain.
The woman looked at Margaret. Then she looked at the Polaroid in her hand.
“Oh God,” she said.
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