Johan looked at the picture. Everyone told him he looked so much like his grandmother. He frowned. She was gorgeous.
He set the picture down on the dresser and stared deep into the mirror above it. The floral patterned room - stuck in the same era as the photograph - was reflected behind him.
He swallowed as he stared at his own reflection. He did look like her - living in her house, surrounded by the smell of old flowers.
Johan clenched his jaw. He would always live under her shadow.