Prologue
Cora
Iknow I should feel something—anything—but I can’t muster the energy. Looking around the cemetery, I take in the small group who have come to pay their respects to two people who truly don’t deserve them. If it wasn’t for my younger brother, I don’t think I would even be here. I wouldn’t have shown up and said goodbye to either of them.
Standing in the oppressive and unforgiving July heat, the one black dress I own sticks to me, making my skin feel tight. The slight breeze that whispers through the cemetery offers scant relief, even here under the shade of the tree where our parents are being buried. I can’t wait to leave. Staring at the two caskets side by side, I wish I were anywhere but here. There was a time in my life when I hoped to be rid of them. I just never imagined it would look like this.
My younger brother shifts in my arms, just as uncomfortable with the stifling heat as I am. I’m shocked he’s coped as long as he has without wanting to get down. There’s an eighteen-year age gap between Noah and me, so a lot of people assume he’s my son. I guess it won’t be too far off the mark since I’ll be raising him. I’ll be damned if I let him live with strangers, or, God forbid, Bea.
Our grandmother sits in a chair next to her son’s casket. I have no doubt her sadness is genuine. Losing a child can’t be easy, no matter how awful they were, but Bea is in no condition to raise someone young like Noah. She’s fragile, and her health is waning, and aside from that, she’s a horrible person. Judging by the type of man her son was, she’s not fit to raise a garden, let alone another human.
“Let us pray the souls of Samuel and Amanda find peace with the Lord,” a preacher finishes, standing between their simple, dark-wood caskets. He bows his head, makes the sign of the cross, and then the small crowd of people start to disperse. A stranger comes to offer their condolences, bringing my attention back to the present.
“It was a lovely service.” A man with balding hair and a paunchy stomach stands in front of me. “I’m so sorry for your loss. They were too young.” I have no idea who he is, but I politely nod and give him my thanks.
I couldn’t tell you half of what the preacher said, but I’m sure it was standard funeral fare. They will be missed and not forgotten and apparently will finally find peace. I don’t know much about them being at peace, but my life certainly will be.
Switching Noah’s weight to my opposite side, I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder. Mr. Morgan—Daniel—offers me a small smile and holds his hands out to Noah.
Seeing the opportunity to go with his pseudo grandfather, Noah quickly switches to him. As I smile at him in thanks, I feel Bea watching our exchange.
A few other people step forward to give their condolences one final time. While issuing appropriate responses, I go through the motions and wonder how long the rules of etiquette demand I stay. As soon as I get home, I’m throwing this dress away and washing away the entire afternoon. I’m eager to put the whole thing behind me.
“You should say goodbye, Cora.” Mrs. Morgan’s warm eyes find mine. She pulls me in for a tight hug, and even though it’s hot as hell outside, and I know I’m sweaty, I lean into her.
The Morgan family is the only reason I’m still here today. Mila and Mara are twin sisters who became my best friends in elementary school. We were affectionately labeled the ‘trio of trouble,’ and I swear, if it wasn’t for them, I don’t know where I would be. Daniel and Willa Morgan are the closest things I have to actual parents.
Her expression softens. “You need this, sweetheart. We’ll take Noah to the car.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Mila asks, pulling her long blonde hair away from her neck.
“No, that’s okay. You guys go ahead, and I’ll be right over.”
They know better than anyone what it was like, but Willa is right. I should say one last goodbye.
Turning toward what’s left of my parents, I pick a single rose from one of the flower arrangements. Its light scent assaults my nose, reminding me of darker times. Avoiding Bea’s watchful gaze from her perch next to her son, I lay it over my mother’s casket.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly exhale and ignore the burning sensation I feel from the tears clouding my vision.No.Stop it. They don’t get my tears anymore.
“Maybe now you’ll have peace, Mom,” I whisper as I stroke my finger across the smooth wood of her casket. It’s hot under my touch, making it hard to ignore the irony. “You could have had it sooner, but he was always more important to you.”
Sparing one last look at what’s left of my mother, I walk away, shoulders tight.
A cutting voice stops me. “That’s it?” Turning around, I’m met with Bea’s anger-filled stare. “What about him?” She gestures toward my father’s casket.
“What abouthim?” I volley back, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
“You’re not going to say goodbye?” She sniffs indignantly.
Shaking my head, I don’t spare a glance at his casket. “I said goodbye to my father a long time ago, Bea. No point in doing it twice,” I confess and walk away.
Our parents are gone, and whether or not they’re at peace is debatable. Wherever they are, at least they’re together. After all, that was their biggest priority: themselves.
Chapter One
Cora
Five years later.
