In the deepest darkest recesses of the old church, sat a figure huddled in a jacket much too large with a hood pulled around the face obscuring it, as if in prayer. A wraith no one took particular note of. He’d have missed her himself except he’d suddenly been impelled to glance up and look out over the crowd assembled to say their goodbyes. He knew immediately it was her – how could this be?
Startled and shocked, he fumbled the papers in his hand nearly dropping them, not only because she was here and alive, but especially considering the eulogy he’d written full of affection and a declaration of love he’d never dared speak aloud – least of all to her.