The Unmarked Grave
Language: en
Three years ago, I packed my bags, divorced, severed all ties with that family, and fled the country. This year, on this solemn day of remembrance, I quietly returned home. The cemetery was stiflingly silent. I walked to an inconspicuous little headstone and laid a small bouquet of white daisies on the grass. This was my child's grave. Today marked three years since he left, and I had flown across oceans specifically to see him. As I turned to leave, I unexpectedly ran into three people. It was my brother, Tristan, whom I hadn't spoken to in three years, and my ex-husband, Garrison, who…