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The picture was near the middle of the pack. Closer to the back maybe. It was the same size, fitting neatly in with the others, though the backing sheet was somewhat flimsier1. Cheaper stock, she thought. Grace checked the next picture. No duplicate this time. That was strange. Only one
The picture was near the middle of the pack. Closer to the back maybe. It was the same size, fitting neatly in with the others, though the backing sheet was somewhat flimsier1. Cheaper stock, she thought. Grace checked the next picture. No duplicate this time. That was strange. Only one copy of this 5 photograph. She thought about that. The picture must have fallen in somehow, mixed up with another roll. Because this photograph did not belong to her. It was a mistake. That was the obvious explanation. Someone else's photograph had gotten mixed in with hers. 10 Or maybe… The photograph had an old look about it – not that it was black-and-white or antique sepia. Nothing like that. The print was in color, but the hues seemed … off somehow – saturated, sun- faded, lacking the vibrancy one would expect in this day and age. The people in it too. Their clothes, their hair, their makeup – all dated. From fifteen, maybe twenty years ago. 15 Grace put it down on the table to take a closer look. The images in the photograph were all slightly blurred. There were four people – no, wait, one more in the corner – five people in the photograph. There were two men and three women, all in their late teens, early twenties maybe – at least, the ones she could see clearly enough appeared to be around that age. 20 College students, Grace thought. They had the jeans, the sweatshirts, the unkempt hair, that attitude, the casual stance2 of budding independence. One dark-haired girl, on the very edge of the photo, you could only see the back of her head, really, and a denim jacket. Next to her there was another girl, this one with flaming-red hair and eyes spaced wide apart. 25 Near the middle, one girl, a blonde, had – God, what the hell was that about? – her face had a giant X across it. Like someone had crossed her out. How had this picture …? As Grace kept staring, she felt a small ping in the center of her chest. The three women – she didn't recognize them. The two men looked somewhat alike, same size, same hair, same attitude. 30 The guy on the far left too was not someone she knew. She was sure, however, that she recognized the other man. Or boy. He wasn't