The officer, standing in the doorway, turned his head. The coroner finished drying his hands, using the tail of his lab coat. “Are these your parents?” Mother was missing a shoe, her toes a pasty blue. Father’s chest was sunken, and his left arm was badly broken. Unable to bring his eyes to look at their faces, Ollie touched their hands, cold and stiff. He began to weep, then nodded to the coroner. Steel casters rolled. And his parents disappeared into the chamber.
– The Long Flight Home by Alan Hlad –
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