"There's a guy up the road at the crematorium. I made sure his grandson went to Columbia for two semesters on our dime."
"Family money?"
"Yes. Efe," he said, sadly.
"The guy knows that this is what will be happening? He knows what we're bringing?"
"He doesn't ask questions. He just knows that once in a while a body may need to be dropped off to him."
"Damn," Chloé said, taking in a breath. "Do you trust him?"
"I do. I think he knows about the kind of people my family—" he stopped. "The kind of person I am," he finished with. "Plus, I'm still paying him money for it."
Chloé nodded.
"So, do we have to do that ... now?" Chloé felt afraid to touch the body or to look at what he had done.
"Yes. Will you help me?"
"I’ll … try."