Ethan
I have an image engraved in my head. That moment when I saw her looking at the coffin, how her lips barely moved, as if she were saying something that no one else could hear. A private farewell. A final conversation.
There are pains that should not be invaded.
...
When it was all over, then she returned to the present.
The Sinclairs' house was full when we arrived. Distant relatives, partners of his father, friends of years. The main room smelled of fresh flowers and freshly brewed coffee. The voices were low, respectful. But there were too many people, too much movement, too many looks at Clara.
That's why, before we even got to the cemetery, I had gone ahead of myself.
I had spoken to the housekeeper, Mrs. Marta, who recognized me with a mixture of surprise and affection.
"
