Not the congregation.
Not even the priest.
We sit frozen as my brother tries to hold himself together. His shaking hand grips the edge of the coffin lid, and with one slow, devastating motion, he pulls it closed.
And that action feels so final that it takes the very air out of my lungs.
Elena is gone. Forever.
When I see Misha’s shoulders begin to shake, I press a kiss to Stella’s temple and rise from my seat. Sasha and Kostya stand beside me without a word, and together we move to our brother’s side. We help carry his wife from the church on our shoulders, step by measured step.
Outside, the sun blazes overhead.
And I curse it.
Curse it for daring to shine on a day like this.
No.
The sun should not shine today.
Not today.
Not when we are about to lower the only light this family ever had into the ground.
After the dismal affair of Elena’s wake, we drive back to the compound in heavy silence, each of us more sullen than before. Kira can’t stop crying, no matter how hard Lucky tries to comfort her.
I can only imagine what’s happening in the other cars trailing behind us. Darius is probably clinging to Sasha with everything he has, terrified that his favorite Petrov might somehow vanish too. Kostya is likely still mute, unable to string two sentences together.
And Misha? Who the fuck knows. He’s alone in his car, unwilling to let anyone witness his breakdown.
When we reach the house, Misha is the first to get out and disappear inside.
“Don’t,” I hear Sasha say as he places a gentle hand over Kostya’s chest, stopping him from following our brother. “Just let him be, Kostya.”
Normally, Kostya would curse Sasha out for trying to tell him what he can or cannot do. But today, he lowers his head… and obeys.
“Come, Darius,” Lucky says gently, taking the boy’s hand. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Darius mutters, roughly wiping at the tears that refuse to stop falling.
Lucky lowers himself onto his haunches so he’s eye-level with him. “I know, kid. But your sister hasn’t eaten anything all day. I was hoping you could help me with that.”
Darius glances up at Kira, her face tear-stricken and hollow, and nods. He’ll do anything for his sister. Even if that means forcing himself to eat something just so she will. With one hand laced with Darius’s and the other arm wrapped around Kira, Lucky guides them toward the kitchen.
“I’m going to check on Nadya,” Sasha says, his expression just as empty as the rest of us.
“Let me do it,” I interrupt. “You and Kostya haven’t eaten either. Me and Stella will check on the baby.”
“Are you sure?” Sasha asks hesitantly.
“He’s sure,” Kostya answers for me. “Come on, asshole. Let’s get some food. It’s been a hell of a day.” He drags Sasha toward the kitchen before he can argue.
I turn to my woman to ask if she’d mind coming with me, but she answers before I even speak, looping her arm through mine. “Let’s go.”
I let out a relieved breath and lead her upstairs, toward the nursery my brothers and I helped Elena decorate over the summer. I ease the door open and find Nadya’s nanny in the rocking chair beside the crib, quietly reading as she rocks.
“How is she?” I ask in Russian. The nanny rises immediately to her feet.
