I Visited My Husband’s Grave Every Day – Until I Found a Shivering Girl There Holding His Photo

I felt my chest tighten. Her voice trembled, but she wasn’t crying. She looked like she’d already done that part.

“Vicky,” she said, rubbing her left eye.

“I’m Whitney,” I said, pulling off one glove and offering my hand.

“Would you like to come home with me? You’re freezing. I can make you something warm to eat, and we can figure things out together.”

The young girl hesitated, glancing toward the gravestones as though still looking for something, or someone.

Eventually, she nodded.

At home, I wrapped her in my thickest blanket and sat her near the fireplace while I heated soup on the stove.

I called the groundskeeper and let him know that she was safe. He’d written his number on a tiny piece of paper.

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