Chapter 68
The cemetery hadn’t changed.
Same iron gate that groaned when it opened. Same rows of names too polished for how much pain they held. Same stubborn wind, colder than it had any right to be in spring.
I parked under the sycamore tree at the far end and sat in the car for a full five minutes before I moved.}]}
I hadn’t been back since the funeral. Not once. Not even on her birthdays.
I thought staying away meant I’d accepted her death. That I’d honored her wish by building the life she asked me to hold up after she was
gone.
But standing here now, with dirt under my boots and her name carved into a stone that still looked too new, I realized I hadn’t accepted anything.
I’d just kept going.
I didn’t bring flowers. I didn’t bring anything.”
Just myself, which felt like the most honest offering I could give.}]
The headstone was simple:
ISABELLE LYNN HALES
Wife. Mother. Beloved.
1988 – 20208
I stood in front of it, hands buried in my coat pockets, breathing like the air might cut me if I tried too hard.
“Hey,” I said.
My voice sounded smaller than I expected.
1 knelt, fingers brushing the base of the stone like I could warm it. I didn’t cry. I’d done enough of that in places where no one saw it.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” I said quietly. “Maybe because everything’s falling apart, and you’re the only person who ever asked me to fix
it.”
The wind didn’t answer, but I kept going.
“She’s not okay, Izzy,” I whispered. “Sophie’s not okay. She’s angry and broken and trying to scare me into staying. And it worked. For five years, I stayed.“}
I swallowed.§
“But she doesn’t see me. And Marcus? He never even tried. I was the backup plan you handed off, and he just ran with it.”
My throat tightened. Still no tears. Just pressure.
“And I told myself that was fine. That loving her would be enough. That holding him up would be enough. That surviving you was the only job I had left.”}
I paused.”
“It wasn’t.”
I shifted onto the grass, sitting cross–legged in front of the grave like we used to on your bed as kids.
“You told me to marry him. You told me to raise her like my own. But you never told me what to do when I lost myself in the process.“}
The wind blew harder. I shivered.}
“I don’t blame you,” I said. “But I need to let you go now. I can’t keep trying to live in your shape.“}
I closed my eyes, sat in silence, and let the cold settle in my chest. A pause. I thought maybe the trees would rustle. That something would stir in the silence.
But instead, I heard a voice.
“Touching. Really. But a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
I turned, blinking through the sun, and there she was.
Ava.5
Wearing sunglasses too big for her face and a trench coat that looked like she was trying to cosplay grief.”
I stood up slowly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She smirked, stepping over a patch of violets like they were weeds. “Came to pay my respects. Marcus mentioned this place. I thought I’d see it for myself.“}
“You’re following me now?“>
“No, sweetheart. Just making sure you stay in your lane.”}
I felt my fingers curl into fists. “You don’t belong here.”
“Oh, but I do. You left. You walked out, and guess what? The world didn’t fall apart. Marcus is sleeping again. Sophie’s… tolerable. And me? I’m thriving.“”
My jaw clenched. “You don’t know anything about Sophie.”
2/2 300%
She stepped closer, low and venomous. “I know she hates you. She told me. She called you a ghost. She said she wished I was her mom instead.”
I didn’t flinch. Not right away. But something in my chest bent, just a little.§
“She’s angry,” I said quietly. “She’s a child in pain.”
“And I’m the one still standing beside her.“>
“You’re standing over her, Ava. There’s a difference.”
Ava laughed. “Spare me the martyr act. You had your chance and you blew it.”
I took a breath. “You can pretend this is a game. A contest. But I know that little girl better than you ever will. I was there when she had her first fever. I was the one who sat up all night teaching her how to braid her doll’s hair like her mom used to do. I know what song makes her cry and which drawer she hides her drawings in.”
Ava’s smile faltered for the first time.
“I know her,” I said again, voice shaking now. “Not because I had to. But because I wanted to. Where were you then?“}
There was a long, stinging silence between us. A war neither of us wanted to fight in a graveyard.
I walked away before she could answer.
But behind me, Ava turned, sunglasses hiding her eyes. “Maybe you knew her. Past tense.”
I continue walking away, when I hear her shout.
“Don’t forget! I’m still the one going home to Marcus now!“}
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