Over and over come the words from well-meaning family and friends--
​
“You need to get over it...”
“Time to move on...”

And the grieving parents are broken-hearted yet again that they must stuff their pain and their memories back inside, so others won’t have to see them.

She lifted her face to the sun, shielding her eyes from the light. A hint of dampness hung in the fresh morning air, still fragrant with dew. She reached her hand upward, considering the lush fruit. “Ah... That one,” she whispered to no one, plucking the biggest piece and admiring its perfection. A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she bit into the pear, juicy and sweet. 

She continued her walk, wandering among the trees along the river. An eagle flew overhead; she could hear its wings cut the air as it passed. Grasses reached toward the sky. Brilliant colours of wildflowers filled the fields. 

The world was still a beautiful place. A different kind of beautiful. Not like before. A tinge of sadness touched her heart. Very beautiful, yes. But not like before. 

Footsteps pounded on the path ahead. Someone was coming. She darted off the trail into the thick growth and crouched low. Adam had warned her not to go so far. She peered through the leaves till she saw a young man round the turn. She held her breath. Had he seen her? Her heart beat faster.