Chapter 217 Insult

• The morning of the funeral found Paul and me in surprisingly cheerful spirits, the air alive with the melody of our humming as we attended to the final preparations. In a synchronized dance of assistance, we offered each other a helping hand, adjusting buttons and smoothing sleeves with care.
• Dressed in our finest black attire, I draped myself in a delicate birdcage veil and we descended the staircase to enjoy a modest breakfast.
• Having notified the hotel manager of our need for an early meal, consisting simply of eggs, sausages, and croissants, we found ourselves alone in the expansive expanse of the restaurant. The sea of pristine white tablecloths stretched out before us.