I find bones all the time, everywhere. Dead animals, small ones, probably cats or dogs but also big bones, maybe from a cow or horse. They are so beautiful, old and white and clean. That’s why I don’t want to be cremated, I want my bones and teeth to remain in the earth, and I want someone to dig them out one day.
And wonder to whom they belonged
But then someday the truth would come out. It always did. Repress what you will, someday the truth comes out
Jeffery Deaver