a bright yellow sunflower (burning like a candle flame)

“You better hope he doesn’t,” Maria Lewis says. Suddenly, she is sitting on your gravestone. Angelica is stood next to her, and Thomas behind them. Even Aaron Burr has wandered over, curled up next to your grave. This world - the souls and the gravestones and the bright yellow sunflower - seems to hold its breath, waiting for Maria Lewis’s words. “He’ll never move on like that.”