Chapter 23 - THE GRAVES
We moved Noah and Caleb’s headstones once.
Not bodies.
Only replaced the original stones Judith had ordered.
She had chosen:
God’s Little Angels, Returned Too Soon.
I hated it.
Not because religion.
Because she had controlled even the words above them.
When the cemetery allowed replacement, Emma was twelve.
We chose:
Noah Thomas Foster
Caleb Andrew Foster
Then dates.
Nothing else.
Emma asked:
“No quote?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“They don’t need a lesson on their graves.”
She liked that.
We planted two small trees nearby with cemetery approval.
Not memorial empire.
Trees.
One survived.
One did not.
We replaced the dead one once.
Then Emma said:
“Stop.”
“What?”
“Maybe Caleb’s tree just died.”
I stared.
She continued:
“Not everything has to mean something.”
My twelve-year-old had surpassed me.
We left the empty space.
May you like
Later wildflowers grew there.
Good.
