They went on a Sunday in October.
All of them.
The same assembly as before — Adrian, Mira, Kofi, Juno, Damien, Helena, Caelan. And now Eli and Cara, who were twenty months old and could walk, though walking remained an activity pursued with the specific ambition of people who had recently discovered it was possible and had not yet developed opinions about efficiency.
The cemetery in the early morning.
The same quality of light.
The same cold.
The same path from the entrance to the grave.
Different because this time two small people were walking it — Eli holding Seren's hand with the focused grip of someone who had decided this was a serious occasion and Cara holding Caelan's, stopping every few steps to look at things that required looking at.
A leaf.
A stone.
A dog in the distance.
The dog was significant. Cara had opinions about it.
Caelan crouched beside her and looked at the dog with her.
They regarded it together.
Then she continued walking.
