The sky on Jade’s funeral day was oppressively gray, the kind of heavy gloom that settled over everything. Cole stood at the front, holding her ashes, his lips pressed in a hard line and his face unreadable. On either side of him stood Xander and Alessia, silent and solemn.


    Neither Jade nor Parrish had much family left, so the funeral was small. The only one who could be called a rtive was Xander, who stood there in a ck suit, leaning on his cane, his clouded eyes full of sorrow. Jade and Parrish had been like his own children–losing them both was a blow no parent should ever have to


    face.


    Six Dawson hovered protectively behind him. Usually, Six had the careless air of a teenager, but today, dressed in a suit, he seemed older, more serious, his features set in a maturity brought on by grief.


    Ste and Justin stood farther back, along with a handful of old friends, people who had helped Cole through the hardest days at The Whitley Group. They were the kind of friends you only found in the darkest times.


    A few raindrops began to fall, quickening into a steady patter. ck umbres opened one by one, spreading like somber flowers beneath the rain, deepening the suffocating hush.


    Alessia tilted her umbre to shield Cole, standing with him as he saw thest rites through to the end.


    Afterward, thanks to Ste and Justin staying behind to help usher out the guests, Cole and Alessia were spared the awkwardness of trying to manage polite smiles for everyone’s condolences.


    “Lessie, <i>you </i>haven’t slept in days, have you?” Ste’s voice was thick with concern.


    “<i>Do </i>me a favor and tell Pierce I’m sorry I missed the final match,” Alessia rasped.


    “Don’t be ridiculous. This is hardly the time to worry about that… but I’ll let him know<i>. </i>Seriously, <i>go </i>get some rest. I’ll handle the rest here.”


    Alessia shook her head. “Let me do it.”


    Her voice was raw, barely holding together. Ste’s eyes burned with tears, but she didn’t argue.


    Justin stayed with Cole, seeing off thest of the guests. Normally impatient and brusque, Justin was unexpectedly steady, offering quiet thanks and polite


    <b>12:35 </b>


    reassurances to each mourner. Because of him, Cole only needed to stand at the door and bow, numbly, over and over.


    He stood there, eyes unfocused, face nk.


    Xander, with Six’s help, made his way from inside.


    “Cole,” Six said quietly.


    “You’ve grown taller,” Cole managed a thin smile, ruffling Six’s hair. His voice was rough, nothing like his usual self.


    “My condolences,” Six said softly. In the face of loss, words always seemed so hollow.


    Cole just patted his shoulder. “Take care of Mr. Dawson, all right? I’lle visit you


    both soon.”


    Six nodded. Xander looked at Cole with aching sympathy.


    “Your mother knew that even if she woke up, she’d spend the rest of her life in a


    wheelchair. She-”


    “I know, Mr. Dawson. My mom was stuck in that hospital bed for two years because of me. Maybe… maybe this is a kind of relief.”


    Cole tried to smile, but it looked like he might fall apart at any moment.


    Xander had nothing left to say. With Six supporting him, he left.


    Night fell, and the house was finally empty.


    Neither Cole nor Alessia had eaten more than a few bites all day. The house felt cavernous, echoing with absence. Alessia wandered through the rooms with a bag of bread and a bottle of water, searching for Cole.


    She noticed the garden lights were still on. Hesitantly, she called his name, but got


    no answer.


    When she stepped outside, she found him curled up on the garden swing, eyes closed,shes trembling, a tear tracing its way down his cheek.


    The swing rocked gently, as if trying tofort him, lulling his exhausted, grieving body.


    Alessia approached quietly and slid onto the swing beside him. It was just big enough for two.


    212