PART 1: The cemetery was quiet in the way only old places of mourning could be, where even the wind seemed to move with restraint, brushing gently through rows of weathered stones as if afraid to disturb the grief resting beneath them. Beneath a towering maple tree near the far end of Greenwood Memorial Park, a man in an immaculate black coat fell to his knees before a polished headstone, his strength dissolving at last into uncontrollable trembling.
