The room was heavy with grief, the air thick with the scent of flowers and the quiet murmur of mourning. Friends and family had gathered to say their final goodbyes, each person lost in their own sorrow. At the center of it all lay a polished wooden coffin, its surface gleaming under the subdued light of the chapel. For most, this was the moment of solemn closure, the point at which memory and loss intertwined. But for a little girl, just seven years old, it was a moment of unimaginable clarity.

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