Next to the excavator was a man holding a shovel, who looked in surprise at the priest standing in front of the pit, then at Liz Murray, who still lay on the coffin below.
"Hey, come on out."
Liz didn't respond, her expression blank as she stared at the coffin, reminiscing about the past.
Her mother was a drug addict and an alcoholic, but that didn't stop Liz from loving her. She missed the warmth of her mother's embrace and often wished to return to those times, but alas...
Liz caressed the coffin.
None of that mattered anymore. What mattered was that as long as her mother was there, she wasn't a child without a home.
Now, with her mother lying here, she had become homeless, the kind of "wild child" others talked about.
The feeling was terrible. She didn't know what to do next—whether to submit to life or continue pondering the meaning of existence. "Hey! You really need to come out now!"
The man stole a glance at the unmoved priest and reminded again.
"We need to prepare to bury the coffin!"
Liz pursed her lips and looked up at the man, "Where will you place the gravestone?"
The man shook his head, planting the shovel into the ground, his words chilling.
"There won't be a gravestone, no place for one here!"
Liz's face remained expressionless, but her eyes betrayed a hint of helplessness. Without a gravestone, after a week, it would be impossible to find the exact spot.
"Hey, you really should come out!"
The man continued shouting, waving at the excavator operator, who also glanced at the still, quietly watching priest, and began to drive the machine forward.
York noticed the excavator moving forward, clearly forcing the girl to leave.
Watching Liz silently sit up inside the grave, York reached into his pocket and pulled out some bills, finally speaking up.
"Find a gravestone and place it here."
His words caught the attention of the three people present.
Liz stared at the unfamiliar priest, her gaze showing fluctuation for the first time.
The man holding the shovel looked even more surprised, glancing between the girl sitting on the coffin and the priest offering money.
"What? Is the money not enough?" York asked calmly.
"No."
The man and the excavator operator exchanged looks, took the bills from York, tucked them into their back pocket, and told the girl in the pit.
"Someone's helping you out. You'll have a place now. Wait here; I'll find a gravestone."
Without further ado, the man gestured to the excavator operator, and they both headed towards the cemetery's management office.
Leaving only the priest and the girl behind.
Liz sat on the coffin, looking down at her dirty shoes in silence before finally looking up at the priest.
"Why are you helping me?"
York replied with composure, "Because I am a priest."
A good enough reason. Liz fell silent, then said,
"You're a good priest."
"Of course, I think so too," York smiled. "Come on up, shall we pray for your relative together?"
Liz, somehow convinced by the priest's voice, obediently got up.
York gestured for Liz to stand beside him.
"Come here."
Liz, her face still calm, walked over to the kind-faced priest.
"Who's inside?" York asked.
"My mom." Liz, hands in her pockets, looked at the coffin in the pit. She knew the process, though she was young, and said,
"Her name was Kelly Lynch."
York was surprised but calmly said, "Let us pray for your mother, Ms. Kelly Lynch."
He opened the Bible and repeated the prayer he had said for the deceased of Reed Apartments.
This time, the prayer was for a child's mother.
Midway through the prayer, the two cemetery managers returned, carrying a gravestone. They didn't interrupt the praying priest and girl but stood behind them as participants.
After the prayer ended, York closed the Bible, made the sign of the cross, and finished the ceremony with an "Amen!"
York looked at Liz, who quietly watched the grave, tears streaming down her face.
He nodded at the cemetery staff behind them.
They moved to the gravestone, lifted it together, and placed it where York had stepped aside.
Liz finally reacted, wiping her tears and staring at the gravestone in front of her.
It bore her mother's name and birth date—simple, but it would help her find the place in the future.
"Is this okay?" The man who had been holding the shovel looked at the silent Liz, then at York.
York nodded.
"Alright," the man said, clapping his hands, signaling the operator to start the excavator and grabbing the shovel to begin filling the pit.
The excavator moved forward, and together, they slowly covered the coffin with cold, damp earth.
Liz remained calm, hands in her pockets, watching the grave being filled, then turned to the priest.
"Thank you..."
Her face was expressionless, but her eyes had changed slightly.
York simply smiled, "It's nothing,"
It was a simple act of kindness that didn't take much effort.
After watching the grave filled, York was ready to leave but paused to look at Liz, dirty and frail, and said,
"Child, if you need more help, you can come to the Pluto Church to find me."
Seeing Liz's eyes widen in response, York smiled, holding the Bible and walked away.
Liz was left watching, a look of longing in her eyes as she bit her lip...
York, now in his Ford Raptor, was unaware of this. Even if he knew, he wouldn't mind, for to him, it was just a good deed.
Of course, such leisure comes with strength. Without it, he wouldn't have the inclination to meddle.
Starting the car, York drove towards the Pluto Church, leaving the Nas Cemetery.
At that moment,
In a luxurious manor, something happened that made Camille, just returned home, both heartbroken and compassionate.
Her daughter Bellamy had suddenly wet herself, her face blank.
"Madam, the young miss..." The nanny, somewhat panicked, called out.
"It's okay, I'll take care of it." Camille walked over, not minding the mess, and lifted her daughter, already deciding to see a psychologist with her daughter the next day...
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