Chapter One : The Funeral
Ethan still couldn't believe what had happened. The air felt heavy, his chest tightening with every breath he took. Was this real? Had his sister truly died? He wished it were just a nightmare-one he could wake up from. But... could a person feel pain in a dream?
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind him. It was Daniel, who said:
_"Ethan... are you okay? Why are you just standing there, staring at the wall?"_
Ethan looked at him with vacant eyes, as if he saw nothing but the void beyond. After a pause, he barely whispered:
_"Daniel... is our sister really gone?"_
Daniel sighed, placing a firm hand on Ethan's shoulder, his voice steady and resolute.
_"Ethan, you're a man. You have to stay strong. The whole family can't fall apart-we need to be there for Dad. You need to stand by him and help him."_
Ethan gazed at him, uncertainty clear in his voice.
_"I'll try... but I wish I were as strong as you. I don't know how you manage to stay so composed."_
Daniel replied without hesitation:
_"Men must endure hardships."_
Silence lingered between them before Ethan finally asked:
_"Where's Mom?"_
Daniel glanced toward the upper floor.
_"She's upstairs. I'll go get her so we can receive condolences together."_
Daniel searched for his mother, moving through the quiet corridors
*Margaret in Her Room*
The room was eerily still, save for the sound of Margaret's slow breaths. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching the dim light reflect off the wall.
_"Mom, can I go out?"_
Margaret lifted her gaze toward the door, where Sophia stood, her hair cascading freely over her shoulders, her eyes filled with a mix of excitement and persistence.
Margaret exhaled lightly, giving a weary smile.
_"Sophia, I barely see you anymore. You go out so often... I'm starting to think you have another family out there!"_
Sophia laughed, taking gentle steps toward her mother, her movements airy, almost weightless. She placed her hands softly on Margaret's shoulders, then encircled her neck-a familiar gesture she used when trying to persuade her.
_"Is there anyone in the world who could ever replace the beautiful Margaret?"_
Margaret hesitated for a moment but couldn't suppress the smile creeping onto her lips.
Sophia pressed on, her laugh warm and full of life.
_"And is there anyone in the world who could ever replace this beautiful laugh?"_
Margaret shook her head, chuckling.
_"You're teasing me again!"_
She reached out, playfully touching Sophia's face, but Sophia wasn't ready to give up. She pleaded:
_"Come on, say yes! I really want to go out!"_
Margaret gave her a knowing look.
_"What about your father?"_
Sophia smirked, whispering mischievously:
_"You and I both know James could never say no to anything you ask!"_
She winked at her mother, then kissed her cheek before turning toward the door.
_"Don't forget to take your medicine, beautiful."_
But then...
A knock at the door shattered the moment. It was sharp, grounding, more real than it should have been.
Margaret froze, looking around, suddenly realizing how empty the room felt -as if the moment she had just lived had evaporated into thin air.
She wasn't in the present.
She had slipped into the past.
It had only been a memory-but it felt so real... until it vanished.
Another knock.
This time, it was Daniel.
He stood at the door, knocking softly, but received no response. He waited a moment, then stepped inside.
Margaret sat on the floor, clutching a picture of her daughter, staring at it as if searching for something lost within it. Daniel knelt beside her silently before speaking in a voice that was gentle, yet firm.
_"Mom... be strong, at least in front of your son. Margaret, you have to find strength for your little one."_
Margaret didn't respond. She kept staring at the picture, then murmured in a trembling voice:
_"But what about my little girl... the one who died?"_
Daniel felt a pang deep inside, though he didn't show it. He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around her, as if trying to transfer some of his strength into her frail body.
_"I know how painful this is... Dad is waiting for us downstairs. We need to take the condolences together."_
Margaret remained silent for a few moments before wiping her face, her voice now steady.
_"Alright... I'll wash my face and come down."_
James stood receiving condolences, waiting for the rest of his family to join him, when he overheard whispers among the guests.
_"Poor man... His daughter died so young. I feel so sorry for him. When my cat died, I couldn't function normally for a long time-how can someone cope with losing their own child?"_
The words pierced through James like a blade straight to the heart. Sophia had been his favorite child, and now she was gone. He couldn't bring himself to believe it. His legs felt weak beneath him; he wanted to break down, to cry.
But he couldn't.
He was the man of the house.
No one should see him vulnerable. No one should watch him crumble. And yet... he could feel the pitying stares from the guests, but his grief was far too immense to care about their words or their looks.
He pretended not to hear a thing.
The family slowly gathered on the lower floor. Their faces were blank, their bodies moved as if devoid of life, as if the funeral was merely _a social formality to complete_ rather than a true farewell.
Guests arrived by the dozens, shaking hands, embracing the father and mother, but their eyes remained empty, their words monotonous and rehearsed -nothing but obligatory condolences.
Everything felt formal, rehearsed, artificial. Their bodies were present, but their souls were absent-lost in the void that Sophia had left behind.
Still, something was missing...
Something that would soon change everything.
