Elias stood for a long moment, looking at the ruin. This was the moment most morticians would recoil. It was the hour of the reconstruction, the art of the illusion. But Elias felt the familiar pull of duty. He didn't see a broken body; he saw a puzzle that needed solving so a mother could say goodbye.

An on-site suite where families can host a time of fellowship and catering after the service.

A draft brushed the back of his neck, though the windows were sealed shut.

"Was he alone?" Her eyes were wide, desperate. "He died on the side of the road. He was alone. I can't bear the thought of him being alone in the dark."