Elizabeth lifted her head and caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure in a gray hoodie. The mysterious person moved with gentle grace, hurrying away in the opposite direction before vanishing from sight in moments.
The sudden movement startled her, causing her to miss a step and teeter precariously.
Elijah’s firm grip caught her arm, pulling her back from the brink of falling.
His frown deepened. “You’re always so careless.”
Elizabeth shot back with a glare that could’ve melted steel. “If you hadn’t startled me, do you think I’d have tripped? It’s perfectly normal for people to come here to pay their respects, you know.”
Camille and Albin caught up to the pair.
Camille pointed ahead, her expression shifting. “Wait—Elizabeth, isn’t that your mom’s grave? Who left the flowers there? Do you know anyone else who’d visit her?”
Elizabeth followed Camille’s outstretched finger. Before her mother’s tombstone, a fresh bouquet of champagne roses rested, their delicate petals catching the faint light.
Something stirred in her mind. She spun around instinctively, but the gray-hooded figure was long gone. In the distance, a sleek black car slid past the cemetery gates.
Her heart clenched with a curious unease, a fragment of familiarity clawing its way to the surface. Could it be…? For a brief moment, she thought of Daxton.
Her thoughts wandered to her first year of college—the rainy day she’d missed her bus to Esterhall. Annoyed and stranded, she had stepped out of the station, only to cross paths with him.
Without saying much, he had simply offered her a ride back.
But that was years ago. Too many years. Surely this was just a coincidence.
Gracie and Danna had always been well-loved. It wasn’t impossible for an old friend to drop by, was it?
Brushing the thought away, Elizabeth spoke with practiced nonchalance. “Probably one of my mom’s old friends.”
Camille wrinkled her nose, skepticism written all over her face. “He didn’t look ‘old friend’ old to me. I’d say he looked… quite dashing!”
“From a blurry glimpse of his back? Come on.” Albin snorted, crossing his arms. “For all you know, he’s just one of those ‘looks-good-from-the-back’ types. Turn him around, and he’s probably some middle-aged guy losing a battle with his hairline.”
Camille threw him a sidelong glance of pure disdain. “A back-view charmer is still leagues better than you—plain from every single angle.”
“Me? Plain?!” Albin’s voice leaped an octave in indignation.
Elijah’s cold tone sliced through their squabble like a knife. “If you’re going to argue, take it somewhere else.”
Usually the joker of the group, Albin shrank under Elijah’s glare, hastily pasting on a sheepish grin as he mimed zipping his lips.
For once, Camille didn’t push back, her expression softening with respect. “Show some decorum, Albin. This is a cemetery.”
Albin made no retort, though he couldn’t resist pulling a childish face behind Camille’s back.
The group approached Danna’s tombstone.
Elijah set down a bouquet in front of the grave, bowing solemnly to the photograph etched into the stone. “Danna, it’s been a long time.”
A wave of emotion swept through Elizabeth. Elijah had only accompanied her to visit once, shortly after they got married.
Now, on the brink of divorce, this would likely be their final visit together.
Camille and Albin took their turns bowing, each murmuring their introductions.
As they straightened, Albin tugged Camille’s sleeve, leaning in to whisper, “I’m starving. Let’s find somewhere to eat.”
Camille gave him an exasperated look, but he exaggerated a series of winks. “Elizabeth,” Camille said, taking the cue, “we’ll scout ahead for a place to eat. You stay here and talk to your mom.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Okay.” She turned to Elijah. “You should go with them.”
Elijah glanced toward the horizon, his gaze distant. “The view’s high here. I’ll check out Esterhall’s layout from this spot.”
Without protest, Elizabeth let him be. The others left, their figures retreating down the path, leaving her alone before the gravestone.
She sank to the stone steps, brushing off a fine layer of dust before unwrapping the other bouquet of roses. No card. No note.
Hugging her knees, Elizabeth whispered into the quiet, “Mom, I’m getting a divorce. I’ve learned the hard way that love isn’t some equation where effort equals success. Sometimes, you have to accept when to let go, even if it feels like giving up.
Life’s too long to only keep looking forward. Sometimes, you have to glance back, too. But no one ever taught me that. I had to figure it out the hard way—by falling, over and over. I haven’t taken good care of myself and Grandma. I’m sorry, Mom.”
She wiped away the tears, letting everything she had been holding back finally spill out.
In front of her mother’s tombstone, she felt like a child again—safe, free to vent, to complain, to seek comfort in the most vulnerable moments of her heart.
Gradually, the sun had set, and night began to consume the last traces of sunset. A gentle breeze rustled through the cemetery trees, creating an eerily quiet atmosphere.
Elizabeth, who once feared ghosts, now understood that living people were far more terrifying. After narrowly escaping death twice, she knew the true meaning of fear.
These silent graves, she thought, wouldn’t harm or betray anyone. And besides, her mom was here. If any ghosts dared to approach, her mother would protect her.
The air grew cooler, seeping into her skin. She shivered, drawing her jacket tighter, and stood to leave. It was time to say goodbye.
Just as she turned, something soft and warm draped over her shoulders.
She spun around, startled, and found Elijah standing there.
Without a word, he settled the jacket snugly around her and slid an arm across her shoulders. Turning to the gravestone, he spoke with a quiet reverence. “Dantra, it’s getting late. We’ll be here for a few more days and will come see you again soon.”
Elizabeth hesitated but then followed his lead, murmuring her own goodbye.
Slipping out from under his arm, she adjusted the jacket properly and gave him a quick glance.
Elijah reached for her hand, his voice low but teasing. “If you trip again and end up in the hospital, how are you planning to keep up this tough act?”
She shrugged, not meeting his gaze, but let him take her hand as they started their way down the hill.
Somehow, intentionally or not, their fingers ended up entwined.
Her hand remained stiff in his grasp, her fingers refusing to curl around his.
