Sadness began to fill his hazel eyes.
“I wished I’d been there, I could have done something,” David thought.
As he composed himself at the grave a grey mist loomed overhead and he saw a pale face emerge from it.
David’s body went numb.
“Dad?”
A voice entwined with the wind drifted towards David and whispered, “Don’t trust her.”
He jolted and slipped backwards.
A hand with painted nails reached out and pressed firmly on David’s back and stopped him from falling.