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He doesn’t flinch.“We’ve got problems here.Real ones that won’t wait for you to sort your shit out.”

I glare at him, but there’s nothing I can say to refute it.He’s right, and we both know it.

“Don’t worry about me,” I say finally.“I’m back.That’s all that matters.”

Seamus doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push either.The rest of the drive passes in silence, the city blurring past the window as I try and fail to bury my thoughts of her.

She’s gone, I remind myself again, the words cold and final.

But no matter how hard I try to shut her out, I know one thing for certain.

This isn’t over.

Aoife

The plane’swheels hit the tarmac, and my stomach flips, not from the landing but from the reality waiting for me.I grip the armrests tightly, my breath shallow as the plane slows to a stop.

My parents are gone.

The words echo in my head, hollow and cruel.I’ve replayed Ruairi’s voice over and over during the flight, his grief barely concealed as he told me what happened.But it still doesn’t feel real.

When I step off the plane, the cold Belfast air bites at my skin, a sharp contrast to the Maldives’ warmth.Ruairi’s there, waiting near the private terminal, his shoulders squared, his expression guarded.

The moment I see him, the grief I’ve been holding in breaks free.His arms open, and I rush toward him, collapsing into his embrace.

“Ruairi,” I whisper, my voice cracking as the tears come.“Tell me it’s not true.Please.”

He holds me tightly, his hand cradling the back of my head as I sob into his chest.“I wish I could.God, I wish I could,” he murmurs.

I cling to him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as a sob wracks my body.“It doesn’t feel real,” I whisper.

“It doesn’t,” he agrees, his voice thick with grief.“I keep waiting for the phone to ring, for them to walk through the door.But they’re not coming back.”

His words hit like a blow, the finality of them sinking in as my knees give out.He holds me tighter, his hand steadying me.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly.

Pulling back slightly, I look up at him through blurred vision.“Are you sure it wasn’t a hit?No one… no one was targeting them?”

His jaw tightens, his grief momentarily eclipsed by anger.“I had it checked out.Every angle.It was nothing more than a drunk driver who shouldn’t have been on the road.”His voice falters as he adds, “The other driver didn’t make it either.”

I nod slowly, though it does little to ease the ache in my chest.“I can’t believe they’re gone.”

“Neither can I,” he admits, his voice quieter now.“But we’ll get through this.Together.”

The drive to Ruairi’s house is silent, the finality of our loss filling the space between us.When we pull up, the porch light is on.Bridget stands in the doorway, Saoirse balanced on her hip.

The sight of them sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me.

Bridget hurries down the steps, her eyes wide as I step out of the car.“Aoife,” she says, wrapping me in a warm hug, her voice thick with unshed tears.“I’m so sorry.”

I hug her back tightly, my throat too tight to speak.Saoirse reaches out to me, her tiny hands grabbing at my coat, and something in me shatters all over again.

“She’s been asking for you,” Bridget says softly, handing her over.

I hold my niece close, her little arms wrapping around my neck as she babbles softly, completely unaware of what’s happened.Her red curls tickle my cheek, and for a brief moment, the warmth of her presence steadies me.

Inside, the house is quiet but feels full of unspoken grief.Bridget has tea waiting, but it goes untouched as we sit together, trying to process what comes next.