They treated me like I was his widow. Sometimes it was embarrassing to imagine what they must have thought but everyone was polite. Rhonda stopped and...held my hand for a long moment while tears streamed down her cheeks. Eventually, she pointed at the picture she’d painted and just mouthed, “Thank you,” and then left.Another blonde in black stood before me. I was a little in awe. Cali Marx had come to Dag’s funeral.“You must be Deb Riley,” she said softly. I nodded. “I know I’m probably no older. I could tell by the way that she looked at me that she wasn't disappointed with me, the way Mandy was with everyone else whenever she didn't get what she wanted. She gave me an apologetic look of sympathy. I couldn't get it up again, and she blamed herself. How can you not love her?We descended quietly because we were armed with our cameras, and nature photographers need to learn to move with as little sound as possible, so we heard the approaching voices but they didn't hear us. Around a large. More

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