Chapter 18: Refuge

Arlington National Cemetery, a drizzling rain.

A group of mourners dressed in black held umbrellas, standing solemnly in the gloomy graveyard.

Dias followed the procession, gently placing a bouquet beside the grave, then turned and bowed slightly to the deceased's family, whispering a few words of condolence.

The family members nodded politely in thanks, but there was little sadness on their faces. Everyone present was going through the motions mechanically.

The deceased was a US Senator, an elderly lady over eighty, a symbol of "high virtue and prestige" in politics.

But in the eyes of all the mourners, she was merely an old relic who should have been in a coffin long ago. The funeral brought a sense of relief.

The priest stood by the grave, beginning to recount the life story of the deceased.

After laying the flowers, Dias had no patience to listen, quietly retreating to the back of the procession, near a man in military dress uniform.