Chapter 2 - The Cemetery
My husband’s coffin had barely disappeared beneath the damp gray sky when my mother called to ask about party money.
There was still cemetery dirt clinging to my shoes.
Only the priest, two of Everett’s coworkers, and I remained by the grave. The wind moved through the rows of headstones with a low, tired sound, and the flowers in my hands felt too bright for a world that had just taken my husband away from me.
My family was not there.
Not my mother, Jasmine.
Not my father.
Not my sister, Penelope.
Not one aunt, uncle, cousin, or family friend who always claimed family came first whenever they needed something from me.
They all knew the date.
They all promised to come.
Instead, they were at Penelope’s birthday party in Phoenix, celebrating in an event hall with gold balloons, live music, champagne towers, and a cake big enough to feed people who apparently had room for everything except decency.
I knew because my phone kept vibrating in my purse.
I tried not to look.
Then I did.
There was Penelope in an emerald-green dress, laughing beneath a balloon arch. My mother raised a glass beside her. My father smiled near a cake that read, Forever Our Queen.
Under one photo, my mother had written: Celebrating life with the people who are always there.
The people who are always there.
I closed my phone with shaking hands.
I had already cried until there was nothing left. Standing there in my black dress, with rain dampening my hair and Everett gone beneath the earth, I felt something inside me freeze.
Then I saw twenty-three missed calls from my mother.
For one foolish second, I thought she was calling to apologize.
I called back.
May you like
She answered immediately.
“Selena, finally. The party is turning into a disaster.”
