"Better get that hole filled up quickly," the doctor blatantly said
to everybody but nobody in particular as the town people stood
about the wet grave site, rain beginning to sting.
Mr. Lightfoot, the blacksmith-livery man began to lower the cast
iron coffin into the unmarked grave site in Chenierewood’s
cemetery. Cassie could do nothing about the horrible cold feeling
in the pit of her stomach. She looked upward into the sky to see
the menacing weather, a single drop of tear ran down her white
cheeks.
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