The rest of the photo album was an uncategorized and unorganized series of snapshots. A few featured great-grandmother Penelope and grandmother Betty, but most were of Penny’s mom, aunt, and an assortment of friends. She recognized some of the faces from the laser-engraved spheres on Susan’s silver tree, and she recognized a few from her own memories of the last year in Dogwood.
There was one of her mom—or maybe it was her aunt, it was impossible to tell one from the other—and Susan in the park, the Chehalis River rushing by behind them. There were other figures in the background, and for a moment, Penny thought one was the intensely red-haired figure of her father. Close scrutiny revealed it to be a scowling man who only looked a little like her father. There was a definite resembla
