It was one of those mornings when the sky felt heavier than the air—a dull overcast stretching endlessly overhead, the kind that presses down on you like an unwelcome weight. The clouds threatened rain but held back, as if hesitating to spill their grief on a world already burdened by its own. My walk to the cemetery was slow, deliberate, each step a careful negotiation with the ache that sat heavy in my chest. I wasn’t just visiting her grave today—I was bringing her the news that felt like a cruel twist of fate, one that made the loss of her feel fresh all over again.
The cemetery gates loomed ahead, their rusted metal edges curling slightly at the corners. I paused at the entrance, gripping the wrought iron as I stared down the rows of headstones. The pale gray stones seemed to blur to
