But those eyes were closed, and they would never answer him.Oscar recognized the foolishness of the question and pulled over a chair. He wanted to sit with Arthur a little longer.This farewell felt final. There would likely never be another visit after this one.He turned to sit, but something caught the edge of his vision. He stopped, turned back, and looked into the coffin. His gaze settled on Arthur's left hand.Arthur lay with both hands folded across his abdomen, just as he had always been arranged. But one finger had split open, and that was wrong.Oscar had overseen the preservation himself. He had hired the finest specialists available, both at home and abroad. According to them, Arthur's body could survive the apocalypse without a scratch.Yet here, only a few years later, the skin had cracked.His first thought was that the specialists had cut corners. Recently, while spending time with Rebecca, he had watched a series of short videos about industries with no repeat
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