The stern faces of each tombstone erected in their regimented lines, they stood guard solemnly over their plots. Like rows of grim dominos amongst the hardened earth of an early spring, they were placed in order of the most recently fallen. The sky above, plagued with persistent gray clouds, they reflected a somber light on the graveyard below. The entire scene awash in a macabre hue, the world seemed to be devoid of color in this solitary moment. However, there amidst the company of these melancholic graves, stood a sole mourner. At the site of the cemetery’s most recent interment and dressed in a black that did not become her, was Annaliese Marchette. Her head bent and eyes cast downward at the freshly carved name on the stone in front of her, she had remained in silent reflection long after all others had departed. The lengthy morning service beginning before the frost had even thawed for the earth, several colleagues and family members had spoken words of remembrance over the fre
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