Chapter 1 - The Friend
It was gray and cold that day, the sky hanging low as if pressing down on the earth like a lid. Even little Christopher, usually so restless, lay still in his crib, as if he understood the world had just cracked.That morning, Lina had nursed him longer than usual; she had even managed, with an almost painful effort, to pump enough milk for his nurse to feed him later.
Lina pressed a kiss to her son’s forehead. A big tear, one she hadn’t felt coming, slid down and landed on his soft skin. That’s when she realized: she had been crying without noticing. With the back of her hand, the young mother wiped it away, swallowed the sob still burning in her throat, and forced a smile before leaving him with his nurse to join Daniel.
In their bedroom, Daniel stood by the window, his back to her, shoulders tense. He was staring outside without seeing anything. Lina approached silently, slipped her arms around him, and held him tight, like clinging to a rock in the middle of a rushing river. He didn’t move. She held on even tighter.
Then, without a word, he gently—almost cautiously—pulled away and walked toward the closet. Lina watched him, speechless.
Her phone vibrated on the nightstand. She hesitated. Daniel was already putting on his suit. She answered.
“How are you?” Éloïse’s voice broke, rough with tears.
Lina opened her mouth to lie, to say she was fine. But the lie stuck.
“It’s… hard, Elo.”
A long sigh passed through the line. Éloïse crumpled. Lina did too. She cried silently, hand pressed over her mouth. Daniel returned to the room, dressed and ready, his face closed. Their eyes met. Lina swallowed everything, wiped her cheeks roughly. She had to hold it together. Lina had lost a friend; he had lost a brother.
“It’s time,” he said simply, his voice flat, as if from somewhere else.
She nodded, murmured a few words to Éloïse, and hung up.
Even though Christopher was already asleep, Lina asked Daniel to go by his room. She needed one last look, one last breath of innocence. He followed without protest.
The young mother stayed by the crib for a long time, watching her son sleep. Then she turned to Daniel. He was looking at the child too, but his face was unreadable, empty of expression. Impossible to tell if he was really seeing him at all.
“This time, we really have to go,” he informed her.
The ride to the church passed in heavy silence. Outside, shop windows were already adorned with garlands and lights, and shopkeepers hung Christmas decorations as if the world were still turning smoothly. That quiet bustle struck Lina. In the face of the storm inside her, it all felt unreal.
She edged closer to Daniel, seeking a bit of comfort. He didn’t respond to her gesture, remaining still, almost frozen. But he didn’t push her away either. That was enough for now. As long as he didn’t reject her, Lina could still breathe.
At the entrance, two young men in white robes handed them funeral service booklets.
Éloïse was already there, seated in the middle of the nave, shoulders hunched. Tom, who had rushed back as soon as he realized they needed him, was holding their friend tightly. She cried silently, head bowed, face buried in her hands.
As Lina walked down the aisle, Tom lifted his eyes. He tried a smile—a simple, bitter line of his lips, without any light. Lina couldn’t return it. She just lowered her head and followed Daniel to the front row.
The entire Beresford clan was gathered. Even Daniel’s mother, whom Lina had only seen in photos until now, was there. An elegant woman with fine features and chocolate-brown hair. Yet something about her seemed fragile, broken—though no one could say what. Was it the shared grief? Her lips trembled, her eyes were red and swollen. Amber sat beside her, equally devastated.
Lina sat next to Eleanor. Daniel took his seat as well, stiff, immediately lowering his gaze to the floor, like his grandfather Robert, who hadn’t moved since their arrival—a stone statue staring at the tiles. Eleanor placed a warm hand on Lina’s back and tried to smile.
“How’s our little treasure?” the grandmother asked, as if talking about Christopher could, for a moment, ease everything else.
Lina swallowed the lump in her throat and clung to that topic too, that small refuge.
“He’s growing every day…” she murmured.
The image of her son crossed her mind; her heart warmed a little, just enough to keep going.
“He eats so much and refuses to be put down…”
Eleanor gave a timid smile.
“Good thing Daniel is here to remind me to…”
The sentence broke off. The lump rose suddenly again. Daniel was there—for their son. Always. And that… that would never be the case for…
Lina wiped the tear that had slipped too quickly. Eleanor did the same, silently.
One of the young men at the entrance approached Daniel and whispered something in his ear. Daniel hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if his legs refused to move, then straightened up.
“I’ll be back,” he told Lina in a calm voice.
After a few minutes, Lina discreetly glanced back. Éloïse was no longer crying, but her eyelids were heavy with unshed tears. Lina silently mouthed a “thank you” to Tom. He understood and gave a slight nod.
Just as Lina was about to turn back, she saw Mariano, ready to follow the other young man from the entrance. Despite his steel-like composure, his face was undone too: jaw clenched, eyes glimmering as if split from the inside. Mr. Harrys and his wife were also present, along with several members of R.B.H.
A little further down the same row but slightly back stood Karl’s father. Beside him, a woman whose features so closely resembled Karl’s that Lina immediately understood: his mother. Both looked devastated. Especially him. Guilt seemed etched into every line of his body—years spent serving the man who had just taken his son. He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Lina forced herself to focus elsewhere. The pain in this place was too heavy, almost physical. She lowered her eyes and took a moment to read the funeral service booklet. But barely had her gaze landed on it when a tear fell onto Karl’s photo—smiling, alive, teasing. Beneath the image, a line read: “To the other piece of my soul.”
She quickly looked away, her heart ready to burst.
To keep from collapsing, Lina started scanning the pews around her. Across the aisle, in the front row, part of Lily’s family. The same faces from the wedding day… but ravaged.
And then she saw her.
Lily emerged from a small side room, supported by her father and sister. They moved slowly, as if every step was a trial.
Ashley and Lily, though twins, no longer looked alike. They shared the same grief, but Lily’s face had changed.
Her eyes were dry, enormous, disproportionate on her pale face. Her father did not weep openly, but every muscle in his body betrayed the devastation caused by his daughter’s suffering.
They joined the rest of their family.
A few minutes later, the first notes of the Ave Maria rose, sung by a dozen choristers in the church choir. The congregation stood as one.
Daniel, Mariano, Erik, RJ, and two of Lily’s cousins carried the coffin.
When they placed it on the trestles in front of the altar, Lina felt her heart split in two. Karl was there. Inside.
The dark wood gleamed under the stained glass. Closed. It had to remain closed—the accident had destroyed everything, making Karl’s body and face impossible to show.
Daniel returned to sit beside her.
The service began, and the readings followed one another. For the Beresford clan, RJ stepped up to the lectern. His voice trembled slightly, but he held firm. One speech after another, sincere and full of memories. Everyone tried to weave in a touch of humor, because that was Karl: professional but mischievous, incapable of leaving a room without bringing light. Each anecdote drew stifled laughter, smiles wet with tears.
Lina didn’t laugh. She couldn’t. She pictured Karl in his office, bent over complex files, while she, on the verge of breaking down, struggled to understand. And he, patient, always found a way to help.
Every training session had ended in fits of laughter. Karl had become her work partner, the one who had given her confidence, shown her she could shine. He was also her friend—the one who could have been the fourth musketeer. And above all, he was a husband, a future father. Karl was all that… and so much more, Lina thought. No anecdote, no matter how funny, could erase the absurdity of the situation.
The most unbearable moment came with the final blessing.
The priest approached the coffin, sprinkled it with holy water, then slowly swung the censer. Smoke spiraled upward in white, sweet, unreal clouds. This was the moment when the soul was “returned” to God. Lina turned her head several times toward Lily. Not once did she break. No sobs, no visible trembling. She stood straight, hands clasped, eyes fixed on the coffin. Lina was stunned by her strength.
Then Daniel rose, along with the other pallbearers. This time, Robert insisted on walking with them. They lifted the coffin and carried it to the cemetery at the rear of the church. Lily and her family were the first to follow, then the Beresford clan, then the rest of the guests.
The coffin was placed on a metal cart. The pallbearers resumed their positions. A few folding chairs had been set up, but clearly not enough for the two hundred attendees. Lily refused the one offered to her; Lina did the same.
Daniel’s phone vibrated in his pocket, a quiet, almost indecent sound.
Lina turned her head, surprised.“You didn’t turn it off?” she murmured, without reproach.
Daniel looked at her, guilty.“I forgot…”
She offered him a small, reassuring smile.
“I’ll check with Karl if…” Daniel began.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop for them both.
Daniel stared at the coffin, and for the first time since the accident, his mask completely fell away. His eyes widened, his lips pressed tight. He shut his eyelids so hard that white wrinkles appeared at the corners. His right hand began to tremble, rising to his neck, rubbing the skin frantically, as if he wanted to tear something away.
A few onlookers nearby turned. Whispers spread.
“Daniel…” Lina murmured.
He didn’t hear her. He rubbed faster, harder, his knuckles white.
“Daniel…”
Nothing.
Quietly, she slid her hand along his back, making slow, steady circles, like calming a panicked horse.
“Daniel…” she whispered even softer, not stopping the motion.
Gradually, very slowly, she felt his back relax beneath her palm. The rubbing became less violent. Then it stopped. Daniel drew a deep breath, as if surfacing after being underwater too long.
He didn’t open his eyes immediately. But he was back.
The priest read a final psalm, then pronounced the last blessing. When he fell silent, the funeral staff stepped forward, ready to lower the coffin.
“NO!”
Lily’s scream tore through the icy air. Everyone jumped. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes blazed with fierce determination. Her father whispered something to her. She shook her head.
“I want him to hear it one last time. With me.”
Absolute silence fell.
Then the first notes of an acoustic guitar rang out. Lina recognized it immediately.
The same voice from the wedding day, warm and vibrant, filled the space:“I found a love for me, Darling, just dive right in, and follow my lead. Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet. I never knew you were the someone waitin’ for me…”
The singer, dressed in white like that day, stood off to the side. Lina hadn’t even noticed him, and yet he was there, wearing the same white suit as at the wedding, a striking contrast against the sea of black around him. Beside him, a woman, also in white. They both seemed to come from another time.
Lily stood motionless in front of the coffin, letting every word wash over her.
Lina closed her eyes. In her mind, Lily’s wedding replayed: the arrival at the hotel, Karl’s pride, their shared laughter, the first dance, whispered promises… Her lips trembled, but Lina forbade herself from breaking down.
Then, unlike the wedding, where only the singer had sung, the woman began her part:“I found a man, stronger than anyone I know. He shares my dreams, I hope that someday we’ll share a home… To carry love, to carry children of our own…”
At those words, it was as if the air had been sucked out of the entire world.
Lina bit the inside of her cheek until it bled. The metallic taste filled her mouth. Around her, people crumpled in silence. Eleanor clung to RJ’s arm, her face in pieces.
The two voices joined for the final verse, louder, more heartbreaking:“Baby, I’m dancin’ in the dark with you between my arms. Oh, barefoot on the grass while listenin’ to our favorite song. I have faith in what I see. Now, I know I have met an angel in person, And He looks perfect. No, I don’t deserve this, you look perfect tonight.”
Every word was a declaration of love and the most devastating farewell Lina had ever witnessed.
“Again!” Lily screamed, fierce, when the last guitar notes faded.
Everyone seemed stunned, unsure of what to do. Lily’s father gripped her tighter and, with a nod, signaled that the song should be replayed.
From the very first notes, the funeral staff approached the coffin.
Lily tore herself from her father’s arms—the music cut off abruptly—she ran, pushed the men away in a desperate gesture, and threw herself onto the wood, hands flat, as if she could still hold him back.
“YOU WILL NOT TOUCH MY HUSBAND!” she screamed, possessed.
Lina felt her legs give way under the injustice of the scene unfolding before her.
“Karl!” Lily shouted, as if calling for help.
Her voice broke. Finally, her tears came, violent, uncontrollable.
No one dared move.
Lily cried like a wounded animal, forehead pressed against the coffin.
“Karl…” she whispered.
Her father approached slowly, whispering to her. She shook her head, hysterical, refusing to let go. He tried to calm her, but she wouldn’t listen. When the funeral staff tried to step closer, she turned to them, arms outstretched over the coffin.
“Leave us alone!” she threatened.
She turned back to the coffin, face twisted with rage and grief.
“You’re a liar, Karl Kurtman!” she screamed. “You were supposed to show me the world! Through your eyes, you promised me! You abandoned me!”
Each word tore at Lina. She could imagine perfectly the weight of those sentences—their violence, their truth.
“You… you won’t see your daughter grow up… you won’t teach her to ride a bike, you won’t be there for her graduation, for her wedding… you coward… I hate you…”
She collapsed before finishing.
Without even looking, Lina heard Robert break down as well.
Lily’s father no longer had the strength to reason with his daughter. He cried, broken by the suffering pouring out in front of him. Then Daniel stepped forward.
Lily lifted a wary, almost feral glance at him. He knelt beside her, laid a gentle hand on her arm, and whispered in her ear so softly that no one could hear. Lily’s tears intensified, but something inside her gave way, slowly. Her father slid an arm under her shoulders and helped her to her feet.
Daniel returned to Lina. She clung to him, unable to stand alone another second. Tears streamed freely, unstoppable.
Lily collapsed into her father’s arms, spent, shattered, but finally silent.
The coffin was slowly lowered to the ground.
The earth followed, shovelful by shovelful, heavy, final.
It was over.
Karl was gone. For good.
As she got back into the car, Lina felt something crystallize inside her. A block. Cold. Hard. Irreversible. But one certainty:
No matter the time. No matter the money. No matter what she had to become to achieve it.
Henri Beresford would pay. For every tear shed today. For every promise taken. For Karl. For Lily. For Daniel. But most of all, for the child who would never know his father.
She swore it silently, fists clenched in her lap. Daniel would avenge him, but he would not be alone. Starting tomorrow, Lina would begin preparing.
Henri would pay.
No matter the person she had to become to make it happen.
He would pay.
You like it?
PLEASE, comment, like, leave a review, follow (Inkitt, Instagram, TikTok…).
