Chapter Two
August 18, 2002.
Today is the day my mother will be laid to rest.
The priest stood before us, his voice calm and steady as he began the holy prayer.
"Heavenly Father,
We stand here in silence, where words feel too small and hearts feel too heavy. You see the pain we carry, the questions we cannot answer, and the emptiness left behind.
Wrap Your arms around those who mourn. Bring comfort where there is sorrow, and peace where there is restlessness. Remind us that even in stillness, even in these quiet moments, You are present.
For the soul we lay to rest today, grant gentle peace. Let her find light where there was darkness, and rest where there was suffering.
And for us who remain, give us strength to keep going, even when the silence feels unbearable.
Amen."
"Now, the children and family of our beloved Angela Matthew Gavin may step forward and lay flowers on the grave."
Everyone was seated, dressed in black. I wore a black dress, dark glasses, and a hat. Rain tapped softly against the umbrella the guard held above me, each drop echoing the heaviness in my chest.
I stepped forward.
The sight of my mother—her delicate body lying still in the coffin—made my chest tighten painfully. This wasn't right. She looked too quiet... too still.
"Mum... please wake up," I whispered, my voice trembling. "This has to be a prank... please wake up."
"Someone hold her!" my aunt called.
She grabbed me tightly and forced me to look at her.
"Contrólate, Brooke," she said firmly. "Tu madre se ha ido... no le gustaría que actuaras así."
Her voice was stern, but I could feel the pain buried beneath it.
"Aunt Laura..." my dad said softly as he pulled me into his arms. "Brooke, get a hold of yourself. She's not coming back."
"That's a lie," I cried. "I don't believe you. This is one of her games!"
"Brooke, listen to me," he said, stroking my hair gently. "Your mother was the best woman I ever had. She was a wonderful mother... and she's watching you from above. She wouldn't want to see you like this. Please... don't do this."
His voice broke.
And that hurt more than anything.
Three weeks later.
Coming home that day had been overwhelming. Too many people. Too many voices. Too many "I'm sorrys" that didn't fix anything.
I just wanted silence.
Now life was moving again—whether I was ready or not.
Dad said Tracy and I had to return to school. Our tests were coming up, and I had already prepared. I always wanted to make Mum proud... even now.
Dad dropped us off. Tracy had been acting strange since the funeral—quieter, distant... and sometimes, cold.
I was in Agricultural Science when Devin walked in.
And just like that, for a moment, the pain faded.
"Aww, you're blushing," Brielle—my best friend since childhood—whispered with a grin.
"He's in Grade 10 and you're in Grade 9. You're not even thirteen yet," she added.
"I know, Brie... but I'm smart. That's how I got here," I said quietly. "And it's just one class difference."
"I'm warning you, Brooke," she said. "Don't go after that boy. I don't want you getting hurt. Tracy is in his class too."
"Why don't you ever want anything good for me?"
Brie sighed. "Fine. Ask him to go with you to the science contest tomorrow. Maybe he'll say yes."
"You're actually crazy," I said, laughing softly.
At lunch, I finally found him.
He was standing with Tracy.
Holding her hand.
My heart dropped.
Still, I forced myself forward.
I coughed lightly. They both turned.
"What's wrong, Brooke? Are you okay?" Tracy asked.
"I... I wanted to ask Devin something," I said, adjusting my glasses nervously. "Would you like to come with me to the science contest tomorrow?"
"Is Tracy going to be there?" he asked.
That question hit harder than anything else.
"I don't know... you can ask her," I replied, my voice barely steady.
He turned to her.
"Are you going to the science contest?"
"Why would I go to something that lame? Only nerds go there," Tracy said with a small laugh.
He looked back at me.
"Sorry, Brooke. I've got better things to do."
Then Tracy smirked.
"Don't tell me you have a crush on Devin."
I froze.
"Wait... you do?" she laughed.
Devin shook his head. "Let me make this clear. I don't like you. I like your sister. She's prettier... and you're just—outdated."
Something inside me shattered.
"And the funniest part?" Tracy added. "She writes about you in her diary—about your future together and how many kids you'll have."
Laughter spread across the room.
My vision blurred with tears.
I couldn't breathe.
I ran.
I bumped into Brie in the hallway and told her everything.
She looked angry—but not surprised.
"Did you know?" I asked, wiping my tears.
"I had a feeling," she admitted. "Devin was planning to take Tracy to prom."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You said I never want anything good for you... so I let you try," she said softly.
"Are you serious, Brie?" I snapped.
"Aww... look, it's Brooke," a voice mocked.
I turned.
Merida stood there with her group—Tracy's close friends and the girls who always had something to say about everyone. She crossed her arms, a smirk on her face, while her friends laughed behind her.
"The besties are fighting now?" she added sarcastically.
I clenched my fists, but I didn't have the energy to fight back.
I walked past them.
Outside, the air felt colder.
People stared at me—whispering, laughing under their breath.
I stood there, waiting for the driver.
Alone.