Chapter 178

• The cemetery was quiet, the sky a soft, mournful gray that matched the weight in everyone’s chest. Rows of graves stretched out beneath bare winter trees, the air cool and still. Wendell Carter’s polished mahogany casket sat on the lowering device, draped in the family crest, the priest’s voice low and measured as he murmured a final prayer. Howard stood at the edge of the circle, shoulders hunched, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black suit, his jaw tight enough to crack. His blue eyes were glassy, hollow, and fixed on the casket like he was trying to will it not to sink into the earth.
• Charlotte stood beside him, her fingers lightly gripping his arm, her body trembling. Her hazel eyes were red and swollen, her black dress fluttered in the light breeze, her hair was pinned back, and her face was pale and drawn. Behind her, her parents stood solemn and quiet—Rita, small but composed, her eyes misty; and Steven, broad and solemn, one hand resting lightly on Brian’s shoulder. Brian’s expression was tight, jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, his respect for the old man clear despite the distance between their worlds.
• Rita stepped forward gently, her voice soft and careful. “Charlotte,” she whispered, her hand resting lightly on her daughter’s shoulder. “He was such a good man. He treated you like his own. I’m so grateful he was in your life.” Her voice cracked, her eyes welling up. “You’re hurting now, but don’t let that pain turn into something else. Stay strong. For him. For Howard.”