No one speaks.
The silence stretches. Grows. Fills every corner of the vehicle.
I want to say something. Anything. But what words exist for a moment like this?
What do you say to a family burying their brother?
What do you say to a woman who lost her husband?
What do you say when grief is so thick you can taste it?
Nothing.
You say nothing.
You sit in the silence. You let it hold you. You breathe through it.
And you pray you make it to the other side.
Dante
The cemetery stretches before us. Grey headstones. Green grass. A hole in the earth waiting to swallow what's left of that body.
Not much left to bury.
I stand at the edge of the crowd. Marina's hand in mine. Her fingers are cold.
The priest speaks.
Sophia stands at the front. Giulia on one side. Aria on the other. They hold her up. Literally. Her legs keep buckling.
She hasn't stopped crying since we arrived.
I want to leave.
I want to vanish. Disappear into the crowd. Walk away from this grave and never look back.
I can't be here.
I can't watch this.
I can't stand here pretending to mourn a man?—
No.
I shut the thought down. Lock it away.
Focus on the priest. Focus on the words. Focus on anything except the screaming inside my skull.
Sophia collapses.
Her knees give out. She crumples toward the ground. Giulia and Aria catch her. Barely.
A sound tears from her throat. Raw. Animal. The kind of grief that comes from somewhere deeper than the chest.
Marina's hand tightens on mine.
I don't look at her.
