I looked through the spyhole, and saw that it was Graham; dressed in the same raincoat he had worn the last time I saw him. I opened the door wide, �...Hello again.” I smiled. “Hello,” he said as I ushered him inside. I closed the door behind him and led him into the living room. The tension was palpable. We both knew why he was here; and that was made even more clear by my outfit. He could hardly stop himself from staring. “Do you like what you see, boy?” I asked him. “Yes. Very much,” he barely. Now, like everyone in Kate’s life, he was gone too.Kate picked up the second newspaper clipping. It was an article about Jacob’s memorial service at St. Anne’s and at the cemetery. The large accompanying photo showed what looked like hundreds of people at the church. This article, like the other, recited his community service and service to his country, the fact he was loved by many people, and he was a quiet philanthropist, never looking for the spotlight. Many from the community spoke at the. More

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