The air around her drew cold as Avery made her steps through the damp ground of the town’s cemetery. She had only stood on its grounds twice in her seventeen years; once by accident upon becoming lost and secondly to stand witness to her father’s funeral. She could recall the details of that very day having acted similar to now, the oxygen seemed to be thin and the atmosphere itself was made up of shadows in mourning; and yet at this specific moment, as her feet came to the fresh dirt packed over a recent grave, she would stand stilled.
Even as those around her were heavy in veils and shadowed by the moonlight, she could understand how they were all sharing a sadness expected from the circumstances. However, as her eyes made contact with the names etched into the stone, she dropped to he
