Father Chillworth remembered Serena’s baptism in his eulogy, spoke to how beautiful she’d been when he’d first held her in his arms, so small, so precious, never crying. He would never forget how she’d stared up at him, smiling, he’d said so later to her parents. He’d watched her play basketball, heard her sing in the choir in her lovely soprano, and he’d heard her confessions when she’d come home from college, usually about her boyfriend and all the temptations, but saying Tommy had never pushed her. He saw Tommy Maitland standing next to her parents, beside him the most beautiful woman Father Chillworth had ever seen. She was supporting him, Father Chillworth thought, squeezing his hand. Or maybe they were supporting each other.

Both Serena’s parents, Livvie and Gray Winters, stood tall, leaning into each other, their hands tightly clasped, their two surviving daughters hugged close. Father Chillworth talked of their devastating grief, their not knowing what had happened to their daughter for seven long years. He knew they would now find some peace, peace of a sort, though Serena’s death would always be a rent in the fabric of their lives.

The Winterses hadn’t wished to celebrate a mass, asked for only a graveside service. He hadn’t approved, but now that he saw the large, mixed crowd and the media, he knew it was the right thing to do. He met Mia Briscoe’s eyes, knew the role she’d played in finding Serena. Beside her stood a tall young man, obviously very close to her, his dark hair ruffled in the wind, and he was holding her hand. Good, she had someone there for her. He raised his hands and prayed. “—let your perpetual light shine upon her, and through your mercy rest with you in peace.” He looked directly at Mia Briscoe again as he ended with the ageless words that said so little yet meant so much. Simple words, both heartbreaking and comforting. “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

Tommy was grateful so many people were here for Serena, to celebrate her short life, grateful its violent end would finally land squarely on Alex Harrington and Kent Harper. He smiled at Gail Ricci, who’d flown from Rome to New York two days before, and now stood beside Mia, Travis Gilbert, Mia’s fiancé, on her other side, all staring straight ahead at Serena’s coffin covered with a blanket of white petunias, Serena’s favorite flower.

It was a cool early spring day, the sun bright overhead. Livvie Winters’s pale hand trembled as she gently laid a red rose atop the petunias. She whispered words no one heard before she turned into her husband’s arms. Serena’s two sisters hugged both of their parents.