Tooheavy.
The air smells like polished wood and flowers while voices murmur, grief compressed into polite tones and careful expressions.
Then I see her.
The portrait of Cora is massive, propped on an easelat the front. I’ve seen her photo before, printed small on the program I found in Hayden’s office. The quality wasn’t all that great to begin with, and it had faded over time.
But this isn’t.
She seems almost lifelike. Her dark hair falls in gentle waves past her shoulders, her green eyes full of life. Her smile is warm. Familiar in a way that makes my chest tighten. I never knew her, but seeing her like this hits me harder than I expected.
I glance at Hayden. His face is carefully blank, grief locked down behind months of training and sheer force of will. But his grip tightens around Jemmy, who stares at the portrait.
“Mama!” Jemmy announces.
“Yeah, bud. That’s Mama.”
“Heaven.”
“Yeah. Mama’s in heaven.”
In a heartbeat, Presley wrenches her hand free from mine and bolts, weaving through the crowd before I know what’s happening.
“Presley,” Hayden whisper-shouts. “Get back here.”
But she doesn’t listen. She pushes through everyone and out the front doors of the church, running faster than I’ve ever seen her.
Hayden hurries after her, continuing to call her name while I remain frozen.
People stare at his retreating form as they lean closer to whisper amongst themselves, gossiping about the poor single dad who seems to have his hands full.
What do they expect when they have to spend theday being reminded of the one person they’d give anything to have back?
I push through the crowd, ignoring the questioning looks.
The second I’m outside, I suck in a huge gulp of air, feeling like I can breathe again. If I felt suffocated inside those four walls, I can only imagine how Presley felt. I don’t blame her for wanting to leave. Truth be told, I did, too.
I scan the area, spotting them almost immediately. Hayden stands beneath a giant tree, most of the leaves gone. And perched on one of the branches is Presley.
“I’m not going to tell you again, young lady,” Hayden says, frustration evident in his voice. “Get down here. Right now. You’re going to lose TV and tablet privileges for a week.”
She doesn’t budge.
His jaw clenches and he squeezes his eyes shut as Jemmy babbles, pointing to Presley and saying “monkey” before making the sound like a monkey.
“If you come down,” Hayden begins, softer this time, “I’ll take you to the toy store. You can pick out anything you want.”
She looks at him, then gives a hard shake of her head.
I see it the second his patience snaps.
“You don’t have a choice,” he hisses. “If I have to climb up there and get you myself, I will. And you won’t like what happens next. This is unacceptable. You’re acting like a baby.”
While I’d normally let him handle this on his own,he’s struggling. After all, I came today to help. It’s obvious he needs it right now.
“Hayden.”
At the sound of my voice, he spins toward me, his eyes blazing.
