while.
Then he looked up at the engraved dates.
And read them.
And read them again.
The birth year was wrong.
Not by a small margin — by four years. Elena had been born in 1991. This stone said 1987.
Marcus frowned, leaning closer. He told himself he was misreading it. The light was strange this morning, low and gray, the kind of November light that flattens continue reading …
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