Mason's POV
The morning sky was gray and heavy and it was a perfect match for the mood that hung over the Lancaster family.
Lydia's coffin sat at the center of the quiet cemetery yard, surrounded by people dressed in dark suits, black veils, and the hushed voices of people were occasionally heard. The ceremony was small, as only family members and close friends were in attendance.
I stood a few feet away, watching as the priest murmured the final prayers. My hands were deep in my pockets, eyes hidden behind black shades. I wasn't close to Lydia, but her sudden death had thrown the entire family into chaos.
Mira stood beside Jasper, her hand clutching his sleeve tightly. Her face was pale, lips trembling and her eyes were red and swollen. She looked like a shadow of herself, broken and fragile, like one more push would make her shatter completely.
