I turned my focus back to the unmarked graves of my family. “Do you want to be buried here?” I tilted my head at my father, unsure how I felt about the grim graveyard the greenhouse plot was building. My father shrugged, eyes flickering to where my mom lay. “It doesn’t matter to me. We are all just skin and bones at the end. I won’t be in the ground. I’ll be in here.” He reached over and tapped my upper chest. My pulse thumped in my ears in response.
