Maria traced the lines of their faces with her fingers, her thoughts drifted back to the day of their funeral. A couple of photos lay open on her lap, "She loved roses" ... " She loved them even when they withered" In the graveyard, beneath the gray sky, Maria stood before her parents' gravestones. A sparse gathering witnessed the ceremony, the atmosphere heavy with grief. Clad in black, Maria held a bunch of black roses, The priest's quiet words echoed through the air, and Maria knelt beside the gravestones, placing the black roses with a delicate reverence. 

The crackling of the fireplace provided a rhythmic backdrop as she continued to sit in quiet contemplation. Beside her, Yoru, slept soundly on a cozy rug. His rhythmic breathing and the occasional twitch of his paws in a dream somehow added to her comfort. The flickering flames painted shadows on the walls, and in the warmth of the room, Maria found herself drowsy enough to rest for sometime.