Nina’s POV
My mom and I reached the cemetery just as the first light broke over Bayport, quiet and cold. We carried my dad’s ashes together, step by step, pressed close to my chest. No matter how gently I held onto his urn, it never felt any lighter.
We had planned to bury him beside my grandmother, believing it would give him peace. But when we arrived, I saw the name carved into the plot next to hers, and my heart sank.
Sadie’s brother.
I swallowed hard and exhaled, trying to keep it together.
“Mom,” I said softly, “let’s just find another spot. We’ll move Grandma, too.”
She nodded stiffly after noticing the Prescott family headstone. Without saying a word, we turned together to talk to the cemetery manager.
But we didn’t make it far.
Fabian showed up, right on cue, with Sadie dangling off his arm.
The moment she saw the urn in my hands, her expression twisted, like venom hidden in a smile.
“Nina! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sadie snapped, voice shrill. “My brother’s dead. Can’t you leave him alone already?”
Before I could even respond, she lunged directly at me, wild and unhinged, as if she’d completely lost control.
“What kind of trash are you trying to dump on him now, huh? Did you bring some stray dog’s ashes to piss us off?!”
I flinched but kept a firm grip on the urn. Instinct took over, and I pushed her away just enough to shield what I was holding.
Sadie stumbled back and let out a theatrical little cry as if she was about to faint, but Fabian was already there, catching her just in time.
“You alright?” he asked, brushing her arm like she might break.
Sadie grabbed her chest, playing it up. “She hit me, Fabian!”
And just like that, his whole face changed.
Dark. Stormy.
Right there, Fabian stepped forward and slapped the urn out of my hands.
I tried to brace for it, but I wasn’t fast enough. The urn flew, spinning through the air, and when it hit the ground, it cracked open. The ashes burst out in a gray cloud and spilled everywhere.
Over me.
Around me.
I stood there, frozen. My head bowed as I stared at the silver-white dust now scattered across the grass.
Scarlet-red filled my vision, and my hands started to shake.
“Fabian,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you even know whose ashes you just scattered?”
He crouched down and picked up the cracked urn, turning it in his hands like it was nothing more than broken pottery.
“Does it matter?” Fabian said flatly. “All I know is that you hurt someone you shouldn’t have.”
With that, he raised the broken urn and slammed it hard against my shoulder.
The pain hit me like a lightning bolt, sharp and blinding. I couldn’t tell where it hurt more—my chest, my arm, or somewhere deeper.
“Nina!”
My mom rushed to me, her face filled with panic. She hesitated to touch my shoulder, but tears were already streaming down her face.
She snapped at him, voice cracked and furious.
“You heartless bastard! What did we ever do to deserve this? How could you treat your wife like this? How could you do this to her and her father?!”
I reached over and carefully pulled her into my healthy arm, steadying her.
“Mom… just let it go.”
My voice was soft, but my heart felt like it was screaming.
“I was blind,” I said, louder this time. “I believed in something I never should’ve. I loved someone I never should’ve loved.”
Those words stopped him.
For the first time, Fabian actually looked at me.
But I didn’t want to look at him. Not even once.
I lightly patted my mom on the back and gradually sank to my knees.
With my bare hands, I began gathering my dad’s ashes, grain by grain, sorting through the blood, dirt, and grief.
My blood dripped down my arm, mixing into the dust on the ground as if it all belonged together.
Fabian just stood there, watching me.
Even when Sadie called his name, he remained silent, as if he hadn’t heard her.
The wind picked up as clouds thickened overhead. My mom and I gathered every last piece we could find and carefully packed it into my coat. Ashes. Earth. Blood.
All of it.
As we prepared to leave, Fabian suddenly stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
“Nina…” he said. “Whose ashes are they?”
“Say it again,” Fabian repeated. “Just once. If you tell me, I’ll believe you.”
I glanced at him, a faint smile forming on my lips.
“Fabian, it doesn’t matter anymore. Like you said, this has nothing to do with you. And from now on… it never will again.”
I moved past him, softly pushing him aside, and left that cemetery with my mom. I never looked back.
Later, we bought a new urn and asked the cemetery staff to help us move Grandma’s ashes, too. We weren’t leaving her behind.
When we arrived home, a tall young man was already standing by our door. I didn’t need to ask; I knew he was the one sent to escort us out.
