Walking along the cemetery path in the rain, Shade realized that this was his first time visiting Mr. Sparrow since his death.
He had been busy making a living lately, and only occasionally thought of the man whenever he looked toward the Master Bedroom at home. Now, walking along the cemetery's stone path and recalling their final—and first—conversation, Shade felt as though it had happened many years ago.
Sparrow Spy Hamilton's grave was inconspicuous, lying amid countless ordinary people in the rain-soaked grass.
Following the receipt, Shade found the grave and stood before the tombstone embedded in the ground, holding an umbrella.
The tombstone bore only his name, date of death, and cause of death. There was no record of his life.
The damp air suppressed the summer heat. Shade held the umbrella in one hand and kept the other in his coat pocket. Raindrops pattered against it as he looked down at the ordinary grave. Thinking of the dead detective's possible identity as a foreign spy, he felt an absurd sensation.
There was no one nearby, and the rain was loud enough to drown out his voice. He could speak the thoughts in his heart:
"His life story must have been extraordinary. Born, educated, joining Gray Gloves for training for some unknown reason, then being sent to Tobesk to lie low. For three years, he worked as a detective, handling all kinds of commissions. He met countless people in his homeland and in Tobesk, experienced countless things, and learned countless secrets. Perhaps someone in a distant place was still waiting for him to return home. Yet the ending of someone with such a remarkable life was witnessed only by an Outlander like me. His final resting place was merely a corner of a cemetery, this tiny grave."
*Are you