27
The Funeral
The cemetery in Brooklyn, New York, was strangely beautiful in Jana’s eyes. It was bordered by three other cemeteries, all blending together into one, the combined greenery stretching across hundreds of tree-lined acres. It had been two months since the series of events that led her here. Jana stood far back from the small group of mourners as they gathered around the grave site. She felt like an outsider, a person whose presence might not be wanted in the midst of grieving friends and relatives. Standing beneath a large oak tree, she glanced up at brilliant yellow-green light glowing through the leaves, then to the slivers of blue sky intermixed between them.
She heard the quiet sound of footsteps on the ground behind her and she turned.
“Hello, young lady,” Agent Stone
