“Don’t,” she cut me off. She took a step away, creating distance between us. “Just… don’t.”

She stood beside Elvis, who gave me a helpless glance. He didn’t believe I did that. But he also couldn’t control her grief.

And I didn’t blame her. Grief was loud. Grief was cruel. And when love gets ripped out of someone, what gets left behind is fire.

I turned away and stepped beside Eliot. His eyes met mine for a second, but he didn’t speak.

The priest came forward to say the ...