Penny spent the rest of the afternoon alone, perusing the stack of material she’d rescued from the basement while Susan was gone. There was another photo album, smaller than the one she had already, a few notebooks, a folder of school essays and papers her mother and aunt had saved, and a half-dozen yearbooks. Two of the yearbooks lay on her bed, set aside after brief inspections.
She’d found her mother and aunt easily enough in them, once on a page featuring the sixth-grade class, and another with them as sophomores. They looked a lot like her, but with auburn hair instead of Penny’s bright red. She also found Tracy West, but not Susan. It had taken her a few minutes to remember that Susan was younger, and Penny finally found her a few grades below. She was easily recognizable, only youn
