It seems that rain lends itself to such solemn occasions. The sound of the rain turns into a lament for the pain of the living, and the soaking rain p...ovides a glimpse of the clammy chill of the grave.Standing over the freshly dug grave, Michael Dane had no words, no thoughts, only feelings.Feelings of rage. Feelings of pain. Feelings of love-- and an overwhelming thirst for revenge.For thirty-eight years Michael's life had been-- interesting. From the day he was born, Michael had led a unique. He had already seen it seventeen times at least, but he watched the climactic moments once again: the teams racing across the ice, pounding along side by side, Tiffany so tiny behind the drive bow of the sled, but so intense and dedicated. Once again, he heard Kirsten's yell of "Come on, Tiffany," shouted right into the videocamera's microphone, and once again he followed the teams racing down the chute as Kirsten had panned to follow them across the finish line. He and Mark had seen the tape. More

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