Half an hour ticked by before Caleb pulled up to the solemn façade of the funeral home on Glory Road.
Upon entering, he was met with a somber array of urns lining the walls, and his brow knitted with unease.
His eyes darted across the names etched into each urn, his face a tapestry of emotions.
A keen observer might notice the fear lurking in the depths of his eyes, a fear he couldn't quite shake.
A staff member approached with a curious glance, asking, "Which family are you visiting today, sir?"
In a hushed tone, Caleb replied, "Sarah Sullivan."
The staffer's expression shifted, and they feigned a search through the ledger, only to raise their head with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, but there's no record of a Sarah Sullivan here."
Those words seemed to unfurl a hidden tension,
