Next to her were three empty seats, until a couple arrived. They looked slightly more together, dressed in formal wear, although they matched Mrs. Pack’s tiredness. “Mr. and Mrs. Frost and next to them Mrs. Claypath and then our Chief of Police Roger Claypath.” The Claypaths looked the most together of them. Mrs. Claypath was dressed in an expensive-looking black dress, while Roger Claypath had his uniform on. He looked as intimidating as he had the previous day at the prison.

“Where are the others?” Robin said. “The Sunderlands and Mr. Pack?”

But Amber didn’t have time to answer.

“We will begin with a reading,” the vicar said. And started to read from a Bible.

After a passage and a prayer, the vicar invited the families up to say a few words. Mrs. Frost was the first to stand up, but as soon as she got to the podium at the front of the stage, she erupted into tears. Mr. Frost hurried up to her. “Let me, Sandra.”

Mrs. Frost nodded.

“Our Robert,” Mr. Frost said, his arm around his crying wife, “he was always gifted with knowing what to say. And I don’t know where he got that from, because it certainly wasn’t from me. He was a fantastic writer. Uh, he wrote stories and scripts and songs. But mostly he wrote poems. Which, as I’m sure you understand, was ironic. Because we named him after a poet.” Mr. Frost smiled and sniffed. “I was going to read something out that he’d written, but looking through the many poems he wrote, I realized that he never wrote anything sad. He focused on the good in the world and that’s what we should do. We should all remember the good of them. The Standedge Five were the best of us, and I am proud to call Robert Frost my son. Thank you.” Mr. Frost stepped away from the podium and led his wife back to their seats.

Next Mrs. Pack stood up, but she was crying so much that her entire speech was lost. Everyone just watched as she stumbled and sobbed through whatever she was saying. No one stopped her; she just continued until she was done, and when she was, she just stood there, swaying slightly, looking out to the crowd.

Roger Claypath got up and took Mrs. Pack back to her seat. Then he went back to the podium. “I have no doubt that all of you understand the pain we are all going through, and if you didn’t understand, I’m sure you do now.” And then Claypath somehow stared directly at Robin. How had he known exactly where he was? His gaze was fierce, and piercing. The message was clear.

Leave us alone.

“I understand now,” Robin muttered under his breath, maybe to Amber, maybe just to himself. “They move on because they have to.”