Without any warning, she lunged across the damp grass and grabbed Martha’s wrist with full force before the caller on the line could utter another word.

PART 3

When Martha Higgins had first stepped through the wrought-iron cemetery gates earlier that morning, the heavy casket was already moving downward.

Two cemetery employees in brown uniforms stood beside the mechanical lowering device, their hands resting on the control levers as the polished mahogany box descended into the earth.

A wide strip of synthetic green carpet covered the high pile of dark soil beside the hole.

Folding chairs sat in neat rows beneath a white shelter canopy, but most of them were already completely empty.