In life, Grandma was stern and secretive. She never smiled, nor discussed her past. Curiosity overtook us.
“Let’s develop it!” I said.
When the Foto-mat called, we rushed to pick up the prints. We tore through the envelope and shuffled through the pictures: A tall, uniformed man who wasn’t Grandpa. A vase of roses. Grandma smiling ear to ear. Over and over. A gravestone.
We looked at each other. A new story to Grandma’s past had developed.