Gray skies blanketed the small hilltop cemetery. The air was damp and gentle, carrying the scent of freshly dug earth mixed with the soft fragrance of white flowers, slowly scattered over the coffin. People stood in silence—some bowed in prayer, others holding back tears.
The coffin where Liana lay was slowly lowered into the grave. Jasmine petals and white roses covered its surface, forming a quiet, fragile farewell. The final prayers had been said, but the sound of sobs lingered in the air.
Raeya knelt beside the grave, her trembling hand touching the still-soft soil.
"Mom… it's me…" she whispered, barely audible. "I came… so why won't you wake up?"
She wept uncontrollably. Her black dress was stained with dirt, her hair disheveled, her eyes swollen. Raeya didn't care about the people around her. All she knew was one thing—her mother was truly gone.
Around her, the mourners began to leave one by one. The sun was slowly sinking. But Raeya stayed, unmoving.
A short distance away, Aunt Lily—who had been watching over her—stepped closer with a gentle voice.
"Miss Raeya… let's go home, sweetheart. It's getting dark… You'll get sick if you stay here too long…"
Raeya shook her head violently. "I don't want to go home, Auntie… Mom will be alone… She doesn't like the dark…"
Her cries grew louder. She curled up, hugging herself, shivering. Her voice broke with each word.
"Auntie… I promised Mom I'd protect her… But I was too late…"
From afar, Arvind stood rigid, his face dark and unreadable. He had been waiting long enough. And now, his patience seemed to run out.
"Raeya," his voice was cold and firm, "we're going home. Now."
Raeya didn't move.
"Raeya! Crying like this won't change anything. She's gone. You have to accept that."
The words hit like a slap.
Raeya slowly turned toward him, her face streaked with tears and pain. Then, with a trembling, angry voice, she shouted:
"Don't talk about Mom like that! She's not 'she'—she's my mother! She's the one who was always there for me… not you!"
For a moment, silence hung in the air. Arvind said nothing. Then he stepped forward and roughly lifted Raeya onto his shoulder.
"Let go of me! I don't want to go! I want to stay! Mom needs me! I don't want to go with you!!" Raeya screamed, pounding her small fists against his back. She kicked and struggled, trying to break free.
But Arvind kept walking briskly to the car. He opened the back door and placed Raeya inside. She cried with everything she had.
Aunt Lily quickly climbed in after her and wrapped her arms tightly around the girl.
"Sshh, it's okay… it's okay, sweetheart… Your mom is never truly gone… She's still in your heart…"
Raeya clung to Aunt Lily, her face soaked with tears.
Arvind started the car, his expression as cold as ever.
"Lily, calm her down. There's no point in crying like this."
His sharp tone made Raeya suddenly fall silent. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the next wave of tears. Her small body still shook with quiet sobs.
And deep in her heart, Raeya whispered softly…
"Mom… if I had gone with you that day… would we still be together? Please don't leave me alone in this world…"
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Several days had passed since the funeral.
Each day that came and went felt like a gray shadow hanging in every corner of the house. Raeya was no longer the same. The bright smile at breakfast was gone. The light footsteps running down the hallway—gone. All that remained now was silence. A heavy, aching silence.
In her room, Raeya sat curled up on her bed, hugging her knees, staring blankly at the wall. She hadn't been to school since that day. Every morning, she buried her face in her pillow, wishing the day would end before it even began. The world felt old… broken.
"Why is my life like this? Does God hate me? Was I born just to lose everything I love?" she whispered, barely audible. Her tears had long dried out. All that remained was the heaviness in her chest, and a deep, unshakable exhaustion. "What did I do wrong...? I thought the world was beautiful. But it's not… The world is cruel."
Each morning, Arvind came down to breakfast, but Raeya's chair remained empty. The plate Aunt Lily set out stayed untouched. And when he came home from work, he found Raeya's bedroom door always closed, always quiet. He had tried many times to knock, to speak through the door, but Raeya never answered him. Only Aunt Lily was allowed to enter.
One day, Arvind decided to open the door himself—only to find Raeya sitting on the floor, her eyes swollen. When he called her name, she glanced at him briefly, then turned her back to him in silence. As if he were just a shadow—unreal, unseen.
Arvind stood frozen. There was something in her eyes that struck him like a blow. Cold. Distant. Like a chasm he could never cross.
That night, Celene came over as usual. She sat in the study, across from Arvind, who was sipping a cup of coffee that tasted like nothing. His face was weary.
"I don't know what else to do…" he murmured, leaning back in his chair. "Raeya has changed. She won't speak to me. She won't even look at me. It's like… I'm a stranger to her."
Celene moved closer, sitting beside him. With slow, deliberate grace, she took his hand in hers and gave him a sweet smile.
"Darling, you're worrying too much. She's only grieving because that woman is gone."
Her voice was gentle, but her eyes carried something else—something sharp. "Trust me… Raeya will return to the way she was. You just need to be patient."
Arvind looked at Celene as if trying to believe her. But deep in his chest, something kept stirring. A quiet restlessness that refused to go away. A sense that something in this house… was slowly beginning to fall apart.