Because standing outside the café is the volunteer fire chief, his hat clutched in his hands, face grave. And gathered around him, a cluster of Lura’s friends. Women I know. Women who’ve loved and laughed and gossiped with Lura for years.
And they’re crying. Openly, shamelessly. The kind of crying you don't do unless something truly terrible has happened.
I’m unbuckling before the truck even stops, flinging the door open, feet hitting the pavement hard as I sprint toward them.
“What happened?” I demand, heart hammering so hard it feels like it might crack open my ribs.
Ruby steps forward, face streaked with tears. She grabs my hands in hers, squeezing tight like she’s afraid I’ll slip right through her fingers.
“It was terrible, Olive,” she says, her voice shaking. “One minute she was cracking a joke and making us laugh like always and the next…” Her voice breaks. “She was just gone.”
Behind her, the others cry harder, their grief a raw, keening sound that cuts through the damp, heavy air.
I stand there, frozen. The words don't make sense. Gone? But she was fine. She was laughing. She was there this morning, handing me bread and teasing me about dating. She showed me how to make cobbler! And now this?
Gone?
No.
No!
A warm hand curls around my waist, pulling me back to solid ground before I can drift away into the numb, yawning horror swallowing me whole.
I look up into Liam’s face, blurred by the sting of unshed tears and shake my head, desperate for him to explain it, fix it, make it go away.
“How?” My voice cracks in two. “She was fine when I left this morning. She was fine, Liam.”
He draws me closer, tucking me into his chest, his hand stroking slow, steady lines down my back.
“I know, honey,” he says, voice low and thick with sorrow. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
And standing there in the fading light, surrounded by the people who loved her most, I realize the place that’s always felt like home has a hole in it now. A hole that nothing will ever be able to fill.
The grief presses in from all sides. Ruby’s broken sobs, the muffled crying of the others, the low murmurs of disbelief and it’s too much.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I can’t move.
Liam must sense it because his arm tightens around me, steady and sure.
“Come on, honey,” he murmurs against my hair. “Come with me.”
I let him lead me, my body moving on instinct, trusting him the way I always have.
He pulls me away from the crowd, down the side of the building, where the noise fades into a dull roar behind us. The rain has started again, a soft mist that clings to my skin, but I barely feel it.
Liam stops under the awning, out of sight, out of reach, and turns to face me.
For a second, I just stand there, staring up at him, my hands hanging uselessly at my sides.
Then I crumble.
It’s not a graceful fall. It's not a cinematic single tear.
It’s a collapse. Messy, broken, real.
