Darrell
The burial had that heavy stillness that settles over cemeteries after the prayers are done. The air smelled of freshly turned earth, cut grass, and the faint sweetness of wilting flowers piled high on the casket. A soft breeze carried the murmur of prayers and the occasional sniffle from the crowd. Bella’s coursemates filled half the rows—some openly weeping, tissues pressed to their faces; others sat silently with red eyes. A few professors attended too, including Mrs. White, who placed a gentle hand on Bella’s shoulder during the final prayer and whispered something that made her nod weakly.
Lara had been there from the start, never more than an arm’s length away, holding Bella’s hand when the sobs became too loud to bear. Gina arrived quietly, dressed in simple black, her fac
