Aunt Karen hesitated.
« You slept at all? »
« You want to sit down for a minute? » she asked. « Or talk? »
I shook my head. « We should just get through the day. That’s what Mom would want. »
« Always the strong one, Nadia. »
« Someone has to be, » I said, but my throat tightened.
« That’s what Mom would want. »
The funeral home was colder than I remembered, the hush broken only by the squeak of my shoes on tile. Aunt Karen pressed an order of service into my hands, her own trembling.
« She’d be so proud of you, Nadia, » she whispered. « You know that, right? »
I swallowed, nodding, but I couldn’t trust my voice.
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