While she was waiting, the aroma of the pie wafted around the quiet graveyard. Nancy’s pulse was pounding with eagerness as she continued to stare at the cemetery, and time seemed to drag on.
An hour or so later, she became aware of movement. The tomb was slowly being approached by a little person. Nancy leaned forward to get a closer look and squinted.
She was shocked by what she saw. It wasn’t the avaricious robber she had pictured. Rather, there was a little child, about nine years old, with dirt smeared on his face and shabby clothing.
