Chapter 120 One-hundred & Twenty

• Maria
• A tear streams down my face as I stare at Anton's coffin, surrounded by white fragrant lilies at the front of the church. He was treasured, and his passing will be remembered by neither anonymous burial nor a quick disposal of his body.
• The old priest gives the eulogy in an ancient church tucked away on a side street in Manhattan. The attendees are few. People like Zhanna will not come to a funeral for a guard, no matter his loyalty and devotion.