Chapter 71

As he wiped my eyes with the back of his hand, I took his other hand in mine and squeezed it.

The heat of the morning sun, conspicuous behind a thin coiling of cumulus clouds, streamed down on us through the windshield.

“You’re the toughest person I know,” Philip said. “You’re a survivor. You’ll get through this.”

“I’m ready,” I said, sitting up and wiping my face dry. “Let’s go.” 20

A conventional brown box; gold nameplate: Henry Rivers; a heaven-blue egg-shaped dome, glass; silver nameplate: Henry Rivers; and a bronze double heart necklace pendant; birthstone, emerald.

David Howe, owner of Redding Funeral and Cremation Chapel, stood before Philip and me in an immaculate airy room adjacent to the showrooms, lined wall to wall with a variety of expensive coffins. His crowbar straight mustache and dark brown eyes seemed fitting in the brooding atmosphere.

He opened his mouth to welcome us. Pleasant. Jovial. I didn’t know what I expected.