Against the cemetery’s strict “No Surveillance” policy, Peter purchased a high-end, weather-proof trail camera used by hunters. It was camouflaged with bark-like textures and possessed powerful infrared night vision.
In the dead of night, Peter returned to the cemetery alone. He felt like a criminal, his heart hammering against his ribs as he climbed a gnarled oak tree thirty feet from Michael’s resting place. He strapped the camera to a sturdy branch, angling the lens toward the headstone.
He told Mary the next morning, and for the first time in months, a spark of something other than sadness—a flicker of purpose—showed in her eyes.
