89

ONE YEAR LATER

The atmosphere was as funereal as the situation itself. The sun hadn't visited that part of the city since the previous day, as if it were also in mourning. Heavy clouds and timid splashes of rain were present, which only made the day seem less happy.

A white tent chapel had been placed in the mansion's garden. It was a large space, enough to accommodate the thirty people present. The dark wooden coffin was centered in the chapel, open so everyone could see Victor's limp, pale body.

White chrysanthemums decorated the coffin. Those were traditional flowers at wakes, and they meant "Golden flower”, from the Greek.

Three of Victor's friends were next to the coffin, crying softly and drying their tears with a tissue as they recalled their journey. They were long-time friends. Their suits were as dark as the sky, representing perhaps eternal mourning.

That was the garden of the mansion that Arabella had bought months before. She barely had time to get used to the place.

Anas