Chapter 6 - The Mourning After
The sun rose over the hills,
a cold,
unforgiving grey.
I watched it from the window of Sarah’s guest room.
I was wearing her clothes now,
a thick sweater and leggings that made me feel human again.
I looked in the mirror.
My eyes were sunken,
my skin pale,
but the fire was still there.
Below,
on the television,
the local news was reporting on my funeral.
“A tragic loss for the community,”
the reporter said.
“The young socialite Elena Carter will be laid to rest today.”
I saw footage of the house,
the hearses lined up in the driveway.
I saw Daniel walking toward the car,
his head bowed,
a black armband on his sleeve.
He looked like the perfect grieving husband.
Monica was beside him,
wearing a black veil that covered her cold,
triumphant eyes.
“They’re going to the cemetery,”
Sarah said,
walking into the room with two cups of coffee.
“The service is at eleven.”
“I want to be there,”
I said,
my voice steady.
“Elena,
it’s too dangerous,”
Sarah argued.
“What if they see you?”
“They won't,”
I said.
“I’ll be in the back.”
“I want to hear the dirt they throw on my grave.”
We drove to the cemetery in silence.
The trees were skeletal,
the grass brown and dying.
It was a perfect day for a burial.
We parked at the far edge of the grounds,
hidden behind a large mausoleum.
I pulled a hood over my head and wore dark glasses.
I looked like just another mourner.
We walked toward the graveside,
staying in the shadows of the tall headstones.
The crowd was large,
filled with people I had known my entire life.
I saw my mother,
supported by two of her sisters.
She looked broken.
I saw the coffin,
the silver handles glinting in the pale sun.
It was empty,
of course.
They hadn't checked it this morning.
They had been too busy with the paperwork.
Daniel stood at the edge of the hole,
a handful of dirt in his palm.
“Elena was the light of my life,”
he said,
his voice echoing through the quiet.
“I don't know how I will go on without her.”
I felt a surge of nausea.
The man was a monster.
He dropped the dirt into the hole,
the sound of it hitting the wood a hollow thud.
Monica stepped up next,
her voice trembling with a fake sob.
“Goodbye,
sister,”
she whispered.
“May you find the peace you couldn't find here.”
I watched as they lowered the box into the earth.
My grave.
My name on the headstone.
I felt a strange sense of liberation.
The old Elena was indeed buried today.
May you like
The woman who stood in the shadows was someone else.
Someone who was about to resurrect the truth.
