The cemetery was quiet, wrapped in a heavy stillness that felt deeper than silence.
Grief lingered in the air, not loud or dramatic, but quiet and ever-present, like a weight pressing down on everyone who stood beneath the gray, swollen sky.
Dark clouds hovered above, holding back the rain as though even the sky was in mourning.
The Moore family stood near the front.
Their sorrow showed clearly, not only in their expressions but in how they stood close to one another.
Julie, Joseph's widow, clutched a handkerchief in both hands. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face marked by more than just the tears of today. It carried the weight of years filled with pain and unresolved loss.
Harold, Jessica's grandfather, stood firm despite the trembling in his hands. He leaned gently on his cane, the only sign of age he allowed himself to show.
