The church organist hit the first heavy chord of the closing hymn, filling the tall rafters with the brassy notes of an old song.

It was the very hymn Evelyn had chosen twelve years earlier, when she made Arthur write down every detail of her funeral plans on three blue index cards.

Two young men from the funeral home came out of the side door by the choir loft, dressed in matching gray suits and black ties.

One of them bent down and released the silver brake lever on the rolling casket cart with a low metal clink that echoed off the wooden pews.

Pastor Higgins came down the three carpeted steps from the altar, holding his heavy black leather Bible under his arm like a shield.