EpilogueHighgate Cemetery was a lovely tangle of wildflowers and old-growth trees in the north of London.
Wyatt had wanted to stop by the office to ask for directions, but Saal had wanted to wander, sure that somehow he’d instinctually know where Elizabeth was buried.
They’d been searching for more than an hour, Azua tugging at her leash, impatient to explore.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ask?”
“Just a little longer. I know I’m getting warmer.”
Wyatt agreed, of course—never wanting to deny Saal anything—and grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together as they made their way up a hill and toward the back of a large monument. It was one of a man and a woman on the far side of a sea of obelisks and angels.
They passed someone kneeling on a blanket, with rice paper and charcoal,
