"I liked him. I did." Charlotte began. "He was just so intense. He kept calling. He ..."
Charlotte's thoughts trailed off.
Without a word she disappeared into her room.
She returned pressing the newspaper into my hand.
The story reported a suspected suicide. It was grimly offset by an editorial at the bottom; an advertisement for an exhibit of prehistoric relics. The caption read The Undead.
"I'm going to phone David's brother."
I looked up at Charlotte's troubled expression.
"Why?" I asked.
"I have to go to the funeral. To make amends. Come with me Chrissy?"
I'm linking up with JB47's 100 Word Challenge. This week's prompt was ... this picture;