Bethi stayed inside with Isabelle for several minutes. When she opened the door, she patted my back.
“It will take a long time, Carlos. But she’ll get better.”
I knew what she was trying to say. Isabelle would never forget Ethan, but the pain of his loss would become easier to accept. It had taken me a long time, too.
When I went in again to check on her, she was sleeping once more.
Grey will stay here with you tonight. Bethi insists she still needs isolation.
I sat beside Isabelle’s bed and stayed with her through the night, until Grey called me to the kitchen in the morning.
“Eat,” he said, nodding toward the plate on the table. “When you’re done, you can shower and change. The funeral’s today. Your things are in the bathroom.”
I ate then showered. A wisp of shame brushed my mental wall at the sight of my face in the mirror. Bruises colored the skin and scabs covered the furrows her nails had left because I hadn’t been able to save the one thing that meant the most to her in this world.
When I emerged, the rest of the group was there.
“Is she awake?” Charlene asked. She was the only one in the house.
“Not yet.”
“Wake her, Carlos. She’ll want to go,” Charlene said, setting a hand on my shoulder.
“When she’s sleeping, she’s at peace. I’ll wake her just before we need to leave.”
She nodded and studied my face. I knew what she was seeing. Slowly fading bruises and healing scratches.
“I thought you healed faster from human damage.”
“She doesn’t fight like she’s human.”
Charlene gave my shoulder a consoling squeeze and walked outside. I watched the clock and went to wake Isabelle. Before I could turn the knob, I could hear a hint of sound and knocked instead.
“Come in.”
I opened the door and looked at her, lying in the middle of the bed.
“Today’s the funeral,” I said softly. “We should leave in twenty.”
She curled tighter under the covers. Her pain ripped at my gut. My failure to protect Ethan had caused this. Just like that failure all those years ago—I stopped the thought and backed out of the room.
I stayed in the hallway until I heard her get out of bed and start the shower. Then, I went to the back door. Grey was watching from the car.
She’s showering, I sent him.
There’s time, he sent back.
It didn’t take long for the door down the hall to open. When she stepped out, her hair was washed but not pulled back in its usual pony tail. Her face was clean as were her clothes. She didn’t look up as she walked toward me.
“Ready?” I asked, moving to open the door.
“No,” she said, in a broken whisper.
The scent of her guilt stopped me, and I turned back to her.
“I just left him. How could I do that? How long did he lay there, alone?”
I studied her for a moment before answering.
“He wasn’t alone. You stayed with him. I didn’t move you until…”
Her flinch stopped me from saying more.
“How many did I hurt, Carlos?”
“All of them.”
“How bad?”
“Dead.”
She took a slow, deep breath.
“Good. Are there more of them coming?”
“No. Since the attack, they’ve stayed clear. Gabby says they seem to know where we are but aren’t making any moves toward us. The way north is open for us when we’re ready.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot before speaking again.
“Was anyone else hurt?”
The question nearly broke me. No one had been hurt like she and Ethan had. A few scrapes and bruises, perhaps. She and I were the worst. But, I didn’t think she knew that. When she’d attacked me, she’d been so far gone. When she’d laid in bed crying as I cleaned her, she’d never turned toward me. I debated how to answer and what to say. I waited too long.
She lifted her head and flinched at the sight of me, and I bled inside at the sight of her red, damaged eyes.
“No one else,” I said, hoping to reassure her.
She looked away, regret pulling her features.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“Would he let you apologize?”
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“Then, I won’t either. I’m here when you need me. However you need me.”
She nodded, and I opened the door.
As soon as she stepped outside, I felt her pull
“Isabelle, don’t,” Bethi said from near the cars. “You need to keep it under control. You can’t handle another break like that. Trust me.”
Isabelle turned to me. “Which car?”
“We’ll ride alone,” I said and motioned to the last car.
It wasn’t the same one Thomas and Charlene had left in. That car had been filled with Ethan’s blood. I hadn’t asked where they’d gotten the new one, but I appreciated that it wasn’t the same for Isabelle’s sake.
She walked toward the car, and I moved to open the door for her. The rest of the group went to their vehicles as Isabelle got in. Bethi hesitated beside the SUV. I knew she was worried about Isabelle. So was I. I didn’t like that she’d pulled emotions so soon. I shut the door and walked around the hood, watching the tears gather in Isabelle’s eyes.
When I got in, I checked the mirrors and adjusted the seat, giving her time to adjust to what we were about to do. Winifred pulled out of the driveway first, followed by Thomas.
I kept back, wanting distance between Isabelle and anyone unable to control what they were feeling because what Isabelle was feeling on her own was enough. Grief swamped the car. She tried not to cry, but her breathing was hitched and uneven.
It didn’t take long before we pulled into the parking lot of a funeral home. Winifred and Thomas were already there. Isabelle didn’t wait for me to get out and open her door. Almost robotically, she walked toward the building.
I moved ahead of her, held the door open, then followed her inside. Down the hall, a parlor opened to the right. She walked straight toward it and up to the coffin that waited at the front of the large room.
Ethan lay inside, looking peaceful and close to how he’d been in life. She stood before him for several moments, just staring down at his powdered face. Then she stepped up onto the platform and laid a hand on his stomach.
Anger. Hurt. Confusion. It stirred in her scent like she couldn’t decide which to be.
“How do I live with this much anger?” she asked softly.
“You learn to lock it away,” I said. “It doesn’t ever leave, but the wall you build around it grows thicker with time, making it harder for you to reach the anger.”
“Why would I want to reach it?”
“Because it helps you remember.”
She glanced at me.
“Will I ever feel happy again?”
“I hope so.”
She looked back at Ethan. I stood with her, ready to support her in any way I could.
When she turned away, she paused at the sight of the others standing behind her. They all wore sorrowful expressions but no scent of any emotion coated the air. They were keeping it in. For her.
“They will do a short service in an hour,” Charlene said.
“Did you arrange all of this?” Isabelle asked.
Charlene nodded.
“Thank you. Where will he be buried?”
“The local cemetery.”
“A headstone?” Isabelle asked.
“Of course,” Charlene said.
Isabelle glanced at everyone then started walking for the door.
She’ll need time, son, Grey sent me, unnecessarily.
I already knew what she needed. Time. And revenge.