Chapter Sixty-Four

“We are gathered here today to commend the soul of our departed mother, sister, wife, and friend, Mrs. Hillary Sanders, into your loving arms,” the priest droned. I stood stoically by Sally’s side, offering her the support I was sure she needed.

I pressed down on her palm, which was intertwined with mine, and offered her a small smile, noting her red-rimmed eyes. She had been crying; all of us had been crying, and I was sure that the small mascara that I had applied this morning would have decorated my face.

Although I had told myself that I would shed no tears, especially since I was being a pillar of support for Sally, I couldn’t help the tears that made their way to my eyes whenever I glanced down at the freshly dug grave.

“Mrs. Sanders had been a remarkable woman.” The priest was still speaking, but my mind seemed to be filtering out his words. I fingered the rose that was held in my other hand and thought of all the times my father had taken me to the Sanders’ house to enjoy di