The Hedgehog farm greeted a morning unlike any others.

  The chickens were no longer free - ranging like they usually do. Four Friesians cows, Lady, Gladys, Lucy and Kimmy, had not been milked and were fidgeting restlessly in the barns, where they had been kept for almost two days.

  Elsa the horse and Ellis the ass were slightly luckier; early in the morning, they had been led out and tied under the apple tree.

  Even from the yard, one could hear the crying of an army of sheep penned inside the red-painted house.

  Under the cherry trees, Barnes the old sheepdog was dozing in the midday light.

  The sun rested hot on the farmhouse roof, but even its scorching late May rays could not lift the heavy, blue air.

  That day, the farm was not crowded with cattle, as it usually was.

  Instead, it was packed with people wearing formal clothing.

  Inside, white roses and tea light candles filled the farmhouse air with stillness.

  The master of the house, Stephen, stood among the guests. The old black suit was worn like a borrowed skin - it did not seem to fit him. Every now and then he had to adjust the tight collar as though it might let him breathe better. His big, bulky, bear-like figure seemed brittle.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  The weathered, etched deep lines on his forehead were tensed together like they were holding something in.

  His eyes, with deep sea blue hues framed by crow’s feet, locked away an unspeakable pain.

  In the heart of the living room was a casket.

  There rested a woman - blonde hair tied into a low bun behind her head, hands clutching some white roses, nails painted soft rose - pink.

  Stephen, occupied with the guests, had lost track of his stepdaughter.

  “Barnes! Come here, boy!”

  The dog lifted both ears, wagged his tail, and slowly opened his droopy eyes.

  He stood up and rushed toward the petite figure seated on the porch step.

  Sue opened her arms; the old dog placed his two front legs on her shoulder and licked her freckled cheeks.

  She held him tightly, her head resting against his.

  Her curly, short red hair flickered under the sun like a dancing flame.

  The dog buried its head into her chest and let out low, contented sounds.

  She closed her eyes.

  Some strands of her flame - like hair slipped over her face.

  A drop of tear rolled down her cheek and rested on her nose.

  “Sue, child!”

  Stephen squatted beside her, placing a leathery hand on her shoulder.

  “Come on in, say goodbye to your mom.”