Laura approached the Duane house cautiously, like a burglar, trying to silence her footsteps on the hard, crunchy snow covering the concrete walkway. The house was small, with a shingled hip roof and rusty gutters that ran next to the porch and bounced against the wooden railing after each of Laura’s footsteps. She knocked twice and Mrs. Duane opened the door and ushered her into the foyer. Read on…