Prologue
In her later years, the only thing Bella would remember of her husband's funeral was the physical ache in her heart. The ache was so persistent, so real that it drowned out the preacher's words; the eulogies of friends and families; the endless sea of sympathetic faces. It weighed her body and her soul down in ways she had never experienced before. When the pastor finally signaled the end of the service, Bella stood with the care and speed of a 90-year old woman. It was fitting for the way her body felt. As she finally stood upright from the pew, the ground swayed. The grief that came and went during the days succeeding his death suddenly pummeled her heart. A sound similar to an injured animal left her lips and black birds danced along her vision. Before she knew what was happening, strong hands were catching her as her legs failed. A familiar voice whispered in her ear. "Shhhh. I'm here, angel."