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The air in the crematorium was thick, smelling of ozone and the suffocating perfume of lilies

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They Couldn’t Bury

Clara’s fingers twitched against mine.

It was small, barely more than a whisper of movement, but it shattered the last of my fear. She was fighting. Somewhere beneath the drugs, beneath the darkness they had forced over her, my wife was still there.

I bent closer to her.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “You and the baby are safe now.”

The chapel continue reading …

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