They are standing all around her, dark brown and imposing. Flat frames half way up to the ceiling, followed by another group up to the ceiling. Their faces are staring down, some of them smiling, benevolent and friendly, others blank and austere. When they are all staring down at her, forever unblinking, staring right at her, but through her, unseeing. Nowhere can she hide, avoid their imposing gaze as if she had done some grave offence. Maybe she had? Her grandmother, she loved her, but she has her waiting in this room full of strangers on dark backgrounds, in frames melting in with the wall. What has she done?