It took every shred of control for Falcon not to storm inside. Standing outside and pacing around Meredith's house, made him feel like some helpless fool, lingering on the fringes while time gnawed at his patience. He had been waiting for hours, four, maybe five, and the weight of those hours pressed down on him until his thoughts began to unravel. Restlessness clawed at his chest, and he was perilously close to snapping.

But his waiting had not been entirely wasted. In his wandering, he had stumbled upon a grim discovery: a cemetery, hidden and forgotten, buried beneath thick snarls of thornbush. The stones were old, leaning, their inscriptions scarred...