After several days of scorching summer heat, on the day Elder Griffin was to be buried, the rain began to fall.
Dark clouds crowded the sky, layer upon thick layer, as if the heavens might at any moment collapse under their own weight.
Amanda Jenkins, clad in a black dress, felt the wind, laden with fine drizzle, and shivered.
It seemed as if autumn was set to arrive early this year.
In her hand, she held a large black umbrella, and with the other, she led Kent by the hand.
She looked towards the front of the tombstone, where Lucas Griffin stood in a black suit, his deep eyes unblinkingly fixed on the black and white photo on the grave.
All the visitors who had come to pay their respects had gradually dispersed, leaving only the Griffin family members in the cemetery.
Amanda, holding Kent's hand, stepped forward and called softly, "Lucas."
Lucas Griffin's gaze shifted slightly, and he parted his somewhat pale lips, "You go back first."
