Caroline stood alone at the foot of the two caskets. One contained her mother and the other, her brother. The caskets were matching, black with silver fixtures, and she wondered who had chosen them—they didn’t really look like something her mother would have liked, they were too ornate and gaudy. Caroline scowled at the thought of her aunt choosing them—her father would have known his wife better. On her mother’s casket lay a bouquet of lilies, her favorite flowers, and a single, ...