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This always happens to me. I’ve had four years to get used to it, but knowing doesn’t make it any less harrowing.

Lev slips an arm around me and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll give you some time by yourself to talk to her.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll just be over there.” He points across to a clearing overlooking a hillside, then plants a kiss on my forehead and leaves me.

I watch him go and wait until he walks a good distance away before turning back to the grave.

My shoulders loosen, the tension unraveling. Still, I can barely breathe.

I stare at the grave, taking in the fresh flowers that have been laid. More white roses. They were my sister’s favorite.

The grass has been neatly trimmed, and everything looks perfectly manicured, but I wish with all my heart that my sister were standing beside me and not six feet under the ground.

Tears fill my eyes, and the grief feels just as heavy as it did years ago when Gabrielle died.

I’m not sure time can heal this wound.

Maybe if I never saw what happened to her, it might be less bad, not easier, just less.

“Oh, Gabrielle.” I wince. Saying her name almost feels freeing. “I miss you so much. So, so much. I wish you were here.”

I wish none of it ever happened. But that’s my fault.

“You’d still be here if not for me,” I whisper.

I exhale and wrap my arms around my middle, trying to hold in the pain.

Every time I come here, I remember that night when I got the bright idea to go to the prom. Give the guards the slip and be normal for one night.

This is what it cost me. A life where I’m here and my sister is no more.

Maybe, maybe with Mama’s plan, I’ll be able to have some kind of life where I can forgive myself.

I know Gabrielle wouldn’t blame me, and she wouldn’t want me to blame myself, either.

I pull in a deep breath and try to steady my grief so I can speak. As this is my last visit, I want to have the kind of heart-to-heart talk I used to share with Gabrielle.

Quickly, I tell her about what’s happened over the last few weeks, how I got married and how Papa managed to screw us over again. I tell her about Lev, and I tell her about Mama’s plan.

I talk to her as if she were really before me. If Lev is right, that the dead don’t really move on, maybe Gabrielle’s spirit is sitting right in front of me, listening. She can see me and hear me.

I’m inclined to believe it because I can feel her. I feel her more than I ever have.

I don’t know if that’s because this is my last visit or if it’s because this is the time when I feel like I’ve needed her most.

“I pray one day, I’ll be able to return to you,” I whisper. “One day, when my life changes. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be happy then. Goodbye, Gabrielle. I will love you forever. And I will never forget you for all that you did for me. Goodbye, my sweet sister.”

I kneel down and place the roses on the grave. I rise on trembling legs and walk back down the pathway. I don’t look back. It’s too painful.

Across the way, Lev sees me and makes his way back. We meet halfway, and he cups my face. I allow myself the moment of respite and inhale that scent of safety and protection. The scent I’ll be running away from in two days’ time.

He slips an arm around me, pulling me close.

I lean into him, and we walk away.

Friday comes quickly. It was as if Wednesday and Thursday never happened, and Friday just appeared. Funnily enough, I managed to sleep last night.