Like this dude, he wished his brother had had a funeral with a fine coffin and many flower arrangements spread about to honor him.
The fact that he didn’t (the mass grave again) came to be laid at the feet of a certain person for Gabby. The wrong one. This was witchery as well.
“Get her,” he spoke back to Marilyn, looking at the wrong side of the name and the trees still burning beyond.
“I’ll (*coo*), *try.*”
—–
Sunklands 