She lifted the document with trembling hands, holding it up proudly, her smile fragile but hopeful.
There was no response.
Her smile slowly faded.
The hand holding the certificate slowly dropped. Her breath caught painfully in her throat.
No rise of the chest. No warmth. No movement.
Her body went rigid.
Sophia stared at the woman lying before her, dread creeping in inch by inch. Then reality crashed down on her.
She grabbed her grandmother’s arm.
Cold.
She leaned closer, her breath hitching. “Grandma?” she called again, louder this time.
Silence answered her.
Sophia’s hands began to tremble. She reached out and grabbed her grandmother’s arms, shaking her desperately.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” she sobbed brokenly. “Didn’t you want me to marry Magnus? So I’d be safe after you were gone?”
Her tears fell freely now, soaking the paper in her hands. She clutched the certificate tighter.
“See? It’s done. I got married—just like you wanted,” she cried. “Grandma… please wake up.”
She tried to press the marriage certificate into Mila Knight’s unmoving hands.
There was no reaction.
Sophia collapsed forward, sobbing uncontrollably. Her cries echoed through the empty house—loud, broken, and desperate.
***
Sophia stepped out of the church just as the sun began to set, the sky dimming into muted shades of gray and gold.
She was dressed in a simple black funeral dress, the fabric falling just below her knees. The cut was modest, long sleeves hugging her arms, the neckline high and restrained. No jewelry adorned her—only a thin black ribbon tied at her wrist, worn and slightly frayed.
The funeral had ended. The mourners were gone. Only a few people lingered in the distance.
Sophia was the last one to walk out.
As she descended the steps, the hem of her dress stirred in the evening breeze, and a well-dressed man stepped forward, blocking her path.
“Miss King?” he asked gently.
She lifted her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said sincerely.
“Thank you,” Sophia replied quietly. “And you are…?”
The man extended his hand. “Peter Ferguson. I’m your grandmother’s lawyer.”
“Lawyer?” Sophia echoed, confusion flickering across her face.
