Chapter 9 - THE BURIAL RAIN
Three days later, we held Rachel’s real funeral.
This time, it wasn't held in a rushed, claustrophobic living room under Marcus’s thumb. We held it in the small, sun-drenched country churchyard where our grandfather was buried, surrounded by wildflowers and the soft rustle of pine trees in the North Carolina breeze.
And Rachel wasn't wearing that stiff, corporate navy blue dress.
We dressed her in the loose linen pants she loved, her favorite white sneakers, and a soft yellow cardigan that smelled faintly of lavender and sunshine.
The rain held off until the very end of the service, when the minister finished the final prayer. As the heavy wooden casket was lowered gently into the red clay earth, a warm, gentle summer rain began to fall, pattering softly against the umbrellas and the leaves overhead.
Leo stood at the edge of the grave, wearing his little black jacket, holding a single yellow daisy.
He didn't look sad anymore. He looked peaceful.
He tossed the daisy onto the casket as it settled at the bottom of the vault.
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"Goodbye, Mom," Leo whispered softly into the rain. "We heard the sound. We won."
I stepped up beside him, wrapping my arm around his small shoulders, pulling him close against my side.
