The words of forgiveness were there, but Garvin's tone carried a hard edge, and the look in his eyes hinted at something darker brewing beneath the surface. The storm raged on outside, rain falling in heavy sheets, accompanied by loud claps of thunder that shook the ground.
Garvin sat alone, separated from the group, his heart weighed down by Scarlett's death. He couldn't shake the morbid thought that if he dug her up, brought her out of the soil again, she might somehow come back to life.
Larry, Louise, and Maya sat together, their expressions equally grim. The tour lights in their hands did little to lift the oppressive gloom that had settled over them.
"Do you think Garvin would be okay?" Maya asked, her gaze drifting to Garvin, who sat with his back to them, his figure a shadow against the dim firelight. She sighed, looking back at the group. "He won't even talk to us. It's like he's completely shut us out."
