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Jeff stood there, his eyes sweeping the room and trying not to smirk. That the room — small and dimly lit with sleep-inducing music playing in the background — was empty seemed almost fitting. And sad.

“I love his smile —”

“What?” Jeff turned to his right and there was his sister, Daniella, leaning over the casket.

“I love his smile,” Daniella repeated.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that he’s smiling.”

Daniella reached out her delicate hands and adjusted the white handkerchief in the suit jacket po...