Chapter 1 

"There are old ghosts that linger

 still, among the 

gravestones and the pines."  

    I never was one for goodbyes. That's why I didn't show up to his funeral. The thought of seeing him laying there peacefully in that beautiful handcrafted coffin we had made together–it was too much. 

My heart shattered when I got the news. I was in the kitchen, feeding our daughter Maribel while stirring a pot of his favorite–simple but delicious chicken soup with chicken nuggets for the girls. 

He never got to eat that last meal. Maribel, too young to comprehend the weight of loss, continued to giggle and slurp her soup, her innocent laughter echoing through the kitchen like a balm to my grieving soul.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

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   Was I forsaking my family? What judgments would others pass when his own wife failed to attend his funeral?

On the day he was buried, my thoughts swirled like the autumn leaves crunching under my boots. 

As I trudged forward ignoring the lingering thoughts of doubt, the pungent smell of death lingered in the chilled air. I wrapped my arms around myself, seeking warmth—or perhaps shielding against the impending knowledge of what lay ahead. 

After entrusting maribel to Grandpa with a promise of treats for good behavior, I made my way to the old rickety church on the outskirts of town. 

Approaching the old, creaky structure, standing at the edge of our modest town, I paused. We lacked the funds to revive it to its former glory, much to the dismay of the pastor. Nonetheless, the quaint little church, with its adjacent graveyard, presented the ideal setting for the plans forming in my mind.

Making sure no one saw, I slowly pushed open the creaky gate and slipped inside, letting it bang shut behind me.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I made my way through the rows of graves, the eerie silence pressing in on me. 

I've never liked the dark or the quiet. Maribel is the same way—she'd be inconsolable if left alone in the dark. Both of us crave the warmth of light and the joy of laughter. A smile played on my lips as I envisioned her cherubic cheeks delighting in the indulgence of cake and sweets.

Redirecting my attention, I stepped purposefully towards the designated grave plate. With each step, the chilling air clung to me, accentuating the somber ambiance of the graveyard.