He parked on the shoulder of the road and walked down the perimeter fence toward the rusted side gate. Pushing through the narrow gap where the broken latch hung uselessly, Daniel followed the overgrown dirt path toward Section C. When he reached Emma’s grave, he stopped. Resting against the cold gray face of the headstone was a fresh cluster of white lilies.
Their long stems were still dripping with water, and yellow stamens dusted the stone with pollen. Beside the flowers sat a smooth, egg-sized river stone, dark grey and polished flat on one side. Daniel crouched down and picked up the stone. Turned over, the flat underside revealed a date written in neat black marker: OCTOBER 14, 2025. Daniel felt the air leave his lungs.