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“Now who is being silly and not subtle? That man will wait for me forever, haven’t you heard? I’m his beautiful boy!” He said it with the biggest grin, and Juliette felt her own lips stretch in response.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard.” She winked at him and bit her lip. He did not need to know how Gustavo had talked her ear off about how much he loved this gorgeous creature during their day of hunting for an engagement ring. Oh, she would tell him all about it soon, and she would tease them both so much about how utterly ridiculous they were in their sappiness. But for now, she pushed Gabriel to the door and kissed his soft, smooth cheek.

“Think of what I said, Jett.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes.

“You’ve done nothing but talk for hours. Go already.”

He gave her one last hug, a long warm one that seemed to envelop her whole and cushion the blow of his next sentence.

“You’ve been grieving someone who’s very much alive, Jett. Are you sure the wake you’ve been holding for years isn’t for your own heart?” He kissed her brow and quietly closed the door behind himself. She could hear him whistling as he skipped down the stairs.

Juliette sat down in the chair he had vacated and allowed his words to seep into her skin. Then she lowered her eyes and confessed.

“Shewas my heart, Gabriel.”

You never quite know whenyour life, like brittle bone, will shatter all over again. And you never really think it will be a phone call and a stranger’s voice asking if your name is Juliette Lucian-Sorel and informing you that as Gabriel Flanagan’s emergency contact you should come to the Presbyterian hospital.

“How is he? What happened? I’ll be there immediately! I’m just a few blocks away—” Juliette shouted into the receiver, only to hear a sigh on the other end of the line. The sirens in the distance sounded like crows. Juliette’s heart was a drum in her ears. And then, it paused. In total silence, the thread of fate was snapped.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no need to rush anymore.”

26

OF UNANNOUNCED VISITS & RUINATION

Funerals are such peculiar events. People come, bring food, talk about the dead, and then they leave and you pick up the pieces and life goes on. As if you didn’t just drop six feet of dirt on top of a huge part of it.

Juliette watched the long line of people pass by the casket. Some touched it, some placed flowers on it, some cried, some didn’t. On her right, Gustavo had not stopped shaking since they’d arrived at the graveyard. He had been doing so well until then, but she guessed he had reached his limit. Francesca held his arm as tears streamed down his cheeks.

The enigmatic, haughty, very young, and very aloof woman with violet eyes stood by his other side. Blackthorne something or other. Juliette hadn’t caught her first name. Her demeanor reminded her too much of Katarina. Entirely unapproachable.

So Juliette just nodded at the stranger and did not speak to her. There was no need for words. Words fixed nothing. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, Rodion Foltin was placing a large bouquet of pink roses on the casket. Juliette sighed. He actually struck a pose before moving on, and she felt like slapping him. She gripped the handle of her cane tighter.

Motherfucker.

And then words she thought she had not needed simply died in her mouth. Katarina Vyatka stood at the side of the crowd. She held a red carnation, her face was bowed. And she was everything.

She must’ve flinched, because Helena, who had just arrived due to some emergency at the hospital and had missed most of the funeral, touched her arm inquisitively.

“Jett? What is it?”

Juliette shook her head, but Helena followed her line of sight, and then cold fingers were clasping Juliette’s skin tighter before relaxing their grip.

“I wondered if she’d show.”

Juliette blinked.

“You did? It genuinely did not occur to me at all.”

“Just because you wanted her to disappear, Jett, didn’t make it so. And he loved her.”

Juliette felt tears sting the backs of her eyes.

“The last words we exchanged were about me forgiving her. He was so adamant, Hels.”

Helena said nothing, just squeezed Juliette’s arm one more time.