The weather is unusually nice today.
The early morning mist quickly dissipated, and the sunlight pierced through the clouds, making the strong light hard to keep one's eyes open.
Thea Lynch walked at the back, forced to keep her head down. Fortunately, Ian Preston was holding her hand.
The cemetery covered quite a large area, and Aaron Lynch's spot was a bit far. Just the walk from the entrance took them four or five minutes.
The group was dressed in black by an unspoken agreement, the only hint of color was the bouquet of flowers in Thea's arms.
As she stepped onto the last stair, a thin layer of sweat had already formed on Thea's forehead.
Julian Zimmerman walked at the front, softly telling the few behind him, "We're here."
At the end of this row, was Aaron Lynch's spot.
Before Thea could speak, Ian had already let go of her hand.
