noah thought that hope's birthday parties were extravagant until he saw the spread her parents put out for her funeral. there were enough white rose and baby breath bouquets to furnish the sistine chapel, and he was 98% the entire town showed up judging by how many times someone had bumped into him in the crowded reception hall. hope would've loved it. he swallowed, hard, before he could continue down that train of thought. “i want to know who decided it was socially unacceptable to serve alcohol at funerals, and then i want to run them over with my jeep a few times."








