“The widow refused to pay for a proper one.

She bought the cheapest unmarked plot by the highway fence.”

I rubbed my right wrist.

The rain washed the loose dirt from my fingers.

My father had built a commercial construction company from nothing, and his wife had put him in a pauper’s grave by a chain-link fence.

“Did you see him before he passed?” I asked.

“Once,” Elias said.

“About a month ago.