Dylan arrived next, slipping into the back row.He wore an ill-fitting sport coat that looked borrowed, and his discomfort was palpable.He kept his head down, studying the memorial program as if it contained fascinating information.
Pamela sat near the middle, calm and composed.She wore a navy dress, her gray hair in its usual neat bun.The treasurer looked like he wasn’t sure why he’d come.
There was an elderly couple there and a middle-aged woman with kind eyes.
And then there was Sofia.She sat alone on the right side, three rows from the front.She’d either wanted to avoid sitting with her cousin or didn’t feel she had the right.Even from the back, Sam could see the tension in her shoulders and the way she twisted a tissue in her hands.Her dark hair fell forward, partially hiding her face.
Chief Hawkins and Detective Phillips stood near the back corner, their presence both subtle and unmistakable.Phillips’ sharp eyes tracked each person who entered, noting reactions, positioning and their behavior.When his gaze landed on Sam, there was no warmth in it, just assessment.
The service itself was painfully generic.The niece stood at the front, reading from notes in an uncertain voice.
“Margaret Brennan was a dedicated educator who touched many lives through her thirty years of teaching.She had high standards for herself and for others.She was accomplished in her field.”The niece paused, clearly struggling to find more personal details.“She loved literature and believed in the power of education.She will be remembered.”She carefully sat down.
The vagueness of it all hung in the air.There were no warm anecdotes, funny stories, or mentions of close friends or cherished memories.Just the bare facts of a life that had been professionally successful but personally isolated.
Sam glanced around the chapel during the brief, awkward silence that followed.Claire had her eyes closed, whether in prayer or in sleep was unclear.Dylan stared at his hands.Pamela sat with perfect stillness, her expression neutral.
And Sofia’s shoulders shook with silent sobs.
The minister, who’d clearly never met Margaret, led them in a generic prayer and invited anyone who wished to share memories to come forward.
No one moved.
The silence stretched uncomfortably.Charlotte half-rose from the pew as if she might say something out of sheer social obligation, but then quickly sat back down.What could she say?
Finally, Pamela stood.The retired librarian walked to the front with quiet dignity, turning to face the small group.
“Margaret and I knew each other for some time,” she said, her voice steady.“She was a woman of strong convictions and impressive intellect.She set high standards and expected others to meet them.”Pamela paused, seeming to choose her words carefully.“She challenged people to be better.That wasn’t always comfortable, but it came from a place of believing in excellence.”
It was a masterful bit of diplomacy.Her words sounded like praise while revealing nothing personal.Sam noticed Pamela’s hands were completely steady.No emotion showed on her face.She could have been reading a book report.She returned to her pew, and the minister quickly moved to closing prayers, perhaps afraid of more awkward silences.
After the service, as people filed out, Sam watched the dynamics.Claire approached the niece to offer brief condolences, then moved toward the door after taking a quick, hesitant glance at Sofia, who remained seated, her face buried in her hands.
Olivia walked over to join Charlotte, while Sam headed over to where Sofia was sitting.She slid into the pew next to Sofia.“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Sofia looked up, her eyes red and swollen.For a moment she seemed confused, as if trying to place Sam in the unfamiliar environment and during a stressful morning.Then she smiled.“Sorry.Hi Sam.”
“Hi there.I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m not.”Sofia’s voice broke.“And I don’t even know why.She was terrible to me.My whole life, nothing I did was ever good enough.She criticized everything.My choices, my education, my relationships.She looked at me as a disappointment.”Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.“So why does it hurt so much that she’s gone?”
“Because she was your mother,” Sam said gently.“That’s complicated no matter what the relationship was like.”
“I joined that stupid book club to try to understand her.I wanted to see her in a different setting and maybe try to see a side of her that wasn’t constantly judging me.”Sofia laughed bitterly.“And you know what?She was exactly the same.She was critical of everyone and impossible to please.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
Sofia gave her head a little shake as if trying to clear it out.“Sorry.I’m apparently having a tough time sorting through all these emotions.I didn’t have it in me to say anything about my mom.I could see my cousin looking all self-righteous and condescending that I hadn’t stood up.But I couldn’t do it.I didn’t know what to say.Even if Ihadknown what to say, I couldn’t have talked about my mother without falling apart.”
“No one should be judging you right now.You just lost your mom.”
Sofia took a deep breath.“My cousin did a poor job with the eulogy.I think it was better not to say anything at all.”She paused.“It was nice of Pamela to speak.I wasn’t expecting that, especially since she and my mother didn’t seem to get along at all.”
“Didn’t they?”asked Sam.“When I spoke with Pamela, she acted like she didn’t know your mom much at all.But during her eulogy, she sounded like she understood your mother.”
Sofia gave a short laugh.“As much as anybody could understand her.But they didn’t like each other, from what I could tell.During one of the meetings, I heard Mom and Pamela arguing before book club started.”
“Did you catch what they were arguing about?”
