ELENA POV
Week Six.
I stood outside the cemetery gates, unable to move.
I'd been here for twenty minutes. Just standing. Staring.
Margaret was beside me, patient as always.
"You don't have to do this today," she said gently. "We can come back another time."
"No. I need to do this." My voice was hollow. "I should have done it weeks ago."
"You were in prison during her burial, Elena. You couldn't have come even if you wanted to."
"I know. But still."
Mom had been buried while I was in the detention center, awaiting trial. A small, private ceremony I wasn't allowed to attend.
Martina had told me about it. How Margaret and a few other Riverside families had come. How they'd laid her to rest.
Dad was buried somewhere else. A different cemetery across town.
Two parents. Two graves. Both are dead because of Brighton.
"Ready?" Margaret asked.
No. I'd never be ready.
But I nodded anyway.
We walked through the gates.
