The mahogany conference table in the Clarksville mansion had seen better days. Marcus sat at one end, his tie loosened and his face drawn with exhaustion.

Gina paced behind him, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Across from them, Margret dabbed at her eyes with a tissue while Nessa and Alex sat side by side, their hands intertwined.

"We need to make a decision about the funeral," Margret said, her voice soft but firm. "Jezza deserves to be laid to rest properly."

"Of course ...