The chapel is quiet. Anita smiles at her old friend—she can see the lines etched into his face. He's getting older, as is she. And they're both trying to keep it together.
She searches for words to console and ease his spirit. But bitterly she knows that she can't even find peace herself, so there's nothing to say to him that feels right.
Gingerly, he strokes her cheek, touching the wetness there. She didn't even realize that she'd started to cry. He pulls her close, and she tries to contain her fears. But he understands, and holds her tighter.