You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 130

RALI

"Death is not the end, but the beginning of a journey into light everlasting."

The sun was too bright. It didn't make sense for the sky to look this clean when my world was falling apart.

"May the soul of Tasmin Hayes find rest in the embrace of the Lord."

I caught Veronica's hand squeezing mine, but that felt far away, like it was happening to someone else.

"And may those she leaves behind find comfort in His grace."

People sniffled around me, some sobbed into tissues. I stood there stiff as stone, staring at the coffin that was about to swallow someone my mind was still refusing to lose.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

I blinked against the sunlight, my vision blurring, but no tears came. I had cried them all out already—or maybe grief had stolen them. I don't know.

Halfway through the coffin lowering, something inside me screamed, but my mouth never opened. I turned away, cutting Veronica's worried whisper short.

"Rali—"

"I just need to rest," I didn't spare her a glance.

I caught sight of him, leaning against a tree, ankles crossed in front of him, his fingers and lips around a burning cigarette.

He'd refused to wear a suit and turned up in black trousers and a zipped-up jacket. For five days, he'd been ice. Colder than usual, if that was even possible. He hardly talked to me or anyone.

I knew mum's death affected everyone around here, but I didn't expect it to affect him this much.

I stood for a couple of seconds, simply watching him while he stared back at me. Then I blinked at the floor and walked off.

......

'You're perfect in that dress. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, sweetie.'

'When are you coming home? I miss you. Come on, Rali!'

'No. Stir it that way. You might end up spilling everything on the floor before the meal even cooks.'

I curled sideways in bed, the covers tucked under my chin, replaying every scene of her in my head. It felt so real I swear I could almost see her face on the blank wall in front of me.

I was never going to hear her voice again: her compliments, her jabs. God, her smile and laugh! How does anyone heal from this?

Tasmin might not have birthed me, but she was the only mother I knew. And for years to come, I'd keep telling everyone that cared to listen.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify