“Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Laura. I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t know how to say this.” She took a breath. “I’m your father’s wife. He passed away last week.”
Silence.
“I thought you should know,” she added. “The funeral is tomorrow.”
“I—” My mouth went dry. “I don’t think I can—”
“I understand,” she said gently. “But… if you decide to come, I think he would’ve wanted that.”
I sat in my car outside the chapel for 10 minutes before I finally walked in.
I kept my head down, sat near the back. I didn’t recognize anyone. I felt like I didn’t belong.
But then, someone sat beside me. A woman. Maybe in her late fifties. She wore a dark coat, and her eyes were red.
“Emma?” she whispered. I turned, surprised.
Continue on the next page:
