The driver remained silent, didn't leave me with instructions on what to do, nothing. He abandoned me amongst the headstones and mausoleums. Collier hadn't turned around, but I was sure he'd heard the limo pull up. There wasn't a car around, and the only sounds in the air were the birds chirping. The grass went on for miles, a thick, lush green I thought would be a perfect OPI color for St. Patrick's Day, and flowers dotted the markers with splashes of life.
I took a deep breath and started on the path to Collier hoping I was meant to join him. My heels marked the walkway in time with my steps, and I worried foolishly about how loud I was being. It wasn't like I was in a library, these people were dead-the sound of my footsteps wasn't going to bother them. Just before I reached his side,
