Chapter 295

The atmosphere inside the funeral home was laden with somber melancholy as I made my way back inside. Timothy found me almost immediately and took my hand.

“Everything okay?” he asked, whispering into my ear.

I looked up at him, seeing the tiredness in his eyes and wanting so badly to get him away from all of this. “Yeah. You?”

“Somewhat” He glanced around. "They're getting ready to bury Stella's body.”

The words settled within me like a heavy stone, a stark reminder of the irreversible loss that had enveloped us. The thought of Stella's final resting place sent a shiver down my spine, the weight of the moment urging me to confront the unsettling truths that lingered beneath the surface.

As we approached the room where Stella lay, I noticed Andy's hesitance, his discomfort more obvious than ever as he stood near her. A wave of suspicion swept over me, connecting dots that had previously remained obscured. Stella's desire to marry Timothy instead of Andy had been a point of contention, and Andy's reluctance to approach her body seemed to speak volumes.

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, a chilling realization dawning upon me. Was it possible that Andy harbored resentment toward Stella? Could he have had a motive for her demise?

An unsettling feeling gnawed at me as I watched Stella's body being prepared for burial. The solemnity of the moment weighed heavily upon my heart, the unresolved questions lingering at the forefront of my mind.

As they began to lower Stella's body into the ground, the finality of the act hit me with a wave of sorrow. I stood there, a witness to the bittersweet closure, grappling with the tumultuous emotions that surged within me.

"Why won't he go near her?" I wondered aloud, my voice barely audible. “He’s been avoiding her casket this whole time.”

Timothy glanced at Andy, a shadow of confusion crossing his face. "I don't know. Maybe it's just too hard for him."

But something in Andy's reluctance struck me as more than just grief. As twisted as it sounded, Andy had more motive to kill Stella out of anybody. She sold him a fantasy and snatched it away, which wouldn’t bode well with someone like Andy, who seemed to take things very personally.

The mourners gathered around the deep hole and watched Stella descend. Scarlett stood near the front, tears streaming down her face. Mr. Fitzgerald put an arm around her and held her close.

Scarlett shook her head, her grief-stricken eyes locking onto Stella's still form. "I can't believe she's gone. It's just so unfair."

"I know," Mr. Fitzgerald replied, shooting Timothy and me a glare. "There will be justice."

“There definitely will,” Timothy echoed, glaring right back. “I shouldn’t have seen her that night. Him and his crocodile tears about saving his daughter…”

“You couldn’t have known,” I reassured him.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and jerked in response. Against my better judgement, I turned around cautiously and found Mia standing behind me. She had on a small frown as she dabbed her running mascara with tissues.

"This is all so sad," she murmured. “She was so young and full of life.”

Bitterness surged within me at her unexpected approach. "Why are you talking to me, Mia? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

Mia sighed, her gaze shifting to the freshly turned earth that now covered Stella's resting place. "Evie, I don't want to hate you. Despite everything, I can't shake the feeling that we're all connected in this, that we need each other in times like these."

I scoffed, bitterness lacing my words. "Connected? After the way you've treated me? I don't need your sympathy."

Mia's eyes softened, a hint of remorse flickering in them. "I'm not offering sympathy, Evie. I'm offering understanding. We've all lost someone we cared about."

My frustration deepened, and I shot back, "Maybe you should have thought about that before dismissing what I had to say."

A shadow crossed Mia's face, a fleeting moment of guilt. "I shouldn’t have fought you. You have to understand, I was scared, confused. These days, it’s hard to known who I can trust."

An image of the gun flashed in my mind. I wanted to ask her about it, or at least solve that mystery, but I was clearly walking on thin ice here.

Mia sighed, her shoulders slumping as if carrying a heavy burden. "I don't know, Evie. Everything felt like it was falling apart. I’ve just started getting my life together, and it felt like you were tearing me down."

I narrowed my eyes at her, hardly moved by her words. She’d been ready to cut all ties because I told the truth about her. Now, she was feeling sentimental all of a sudden.

Granted, I had aired out all her dirty laundry, including my own. It must’ve felt like a stab in the back after she’d been trying to rekindle something, only for me to dig up all our past issues. Things had been going so well until that interview.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," I admitted, the remorse outweighing any of my anger. “I was just telling my story, but I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

Mia's gaze held mine for a moment, a silent understanding passing between us. "I know," she replied softly.

The gathering clouds above threatened rain, and Mia's eyes searched mine for understanding. "Like I said, I don't want us to be enemies, Evie. We're all hurting, and I can't bear the thought of burying anyone else I care about."

Her words resonated with a sincerity that caught me off guard. Despite the anger and confusion that had defined our interactions, Mia's vulnerability was a bridge between us. I felt a reluctant warmth creeping into my heart.

"Are you ready to go, Evie?" Timothy's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I nodded, still mulling over the perplexing shift in Mia's behavior. Before I could process it further, Mia marched in between us and smacked Timothy’s hand away.

"Stay away from my daughter!" she snapped at him, her voice cold and sharp.

Confusion swept over me as I looked between them. "Mom, please, just leave Timothy alone," I pleaded, hoping to reason with her. “He’s innocent in all this.”

Mia's gaze hardened, her distrust palpable. "I don't trust him, Evie," she replied firmly, her voice carrying a tone of finality.

I sighed. I suppose it couldn’t be too perfect. “I’ll see you later, mom. We’re heading out now.”

Mia shook her head, though she relented quite easily. Feeling torn between the conflicting emotions and loyalties, I made my way towards Timothy, the tension in the air leaving me feeling unsettled and distressed.

"Let's go," I said to him.

As we settled into the car, a heavy silence hung between us. Timothy started the engine, but he didn’t move for a while, his expression still pensive. Eventually, he summoned the strength to pull out of the lot, his eyes slightly glazed over.

The drive was filled with an uncomfortable silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between us. As the miles passed, I grappled with my own skepticism.

"I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this," I finally spoke up, breaking the uneasy silence.

Timothy glanced at me, his eyes reflecting a hint of concern. "You’re telling me. Also, what was that about back there? With your mom?"

I bit my lip, noting how yet another person was going against us. "My mom might become a problem," I confessed.

Timothy's expression grew somber as he processed my words. "Oh…”