#Chapter 187: The Funeral

Agnes & Elijah Agnes The casket was tiny. Too tiny. I stared blankly as it was slowly lowered into the ground. The small clearing was quiet except for the soft rustling of the wind through the leaves. Ever since Elijah had convinced me to hold a funeral, I’d been in a haze. He and James had handled most of the details, which I’d been grateful for. The thought of picking out caskets and flowers and headstones for my baby had been too overwhelming. I hadn’t expected so many people to come. Mourners from all over the pack had turned up, filling the small clearing. Some I recognized—Evelyn, Maria, Gertrude, other women from my work, several other Lunas, and Beta James standing respectfully at attention. Others were strangers to me, pack members who had begun supporting my search in recent history or who had simply come to pay their respects. I hardly noticed any of them, though. Not even Elijah’s steady hand on my back registered fully in my consciou