Page 38 of Burn Bright (Cobalt Empire #1)

“‘As you awake with morning’s hush, I am the swift, up-flinging rush. Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the day transcending night. Do not stand…By my grave, and cry—I am not there.’” She exhales deeply. “‘I did not die.’”

I blink, expecting tears. Waterworks. Something.

Emotions feel coiled inside my chest. Tightly balled rather than unspooled threads. “That was beautiful, Audrey,” I breathe. “Thanks.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders and cup the back of her skull below her hat, trying to let her know I don’t need the comfort. I’m okay .

“Theodore.” Mom tosses her white rose onto the grave.

“What can I say about you? You were a beloved winged creature that didn’t abide by nightly quiet hours.

You once yanked my diamond necklace right off my throat when I graciously changed your water.

And your favorite word to mimic was Satan , to which I blame Eliot and Tom as your teachers. ”

Eliot mutters, “Terrific student.”

“The best,” Tom whispers.

They set their roses on the dirt.

Mom continues, “But you would also say, bird , and I found that endearing in its self-awareness. All in all, you weren’t bad.” She intakes a sharp breath. “I guess…I will miss you.” She eyes me and adds, “Very much.”

I smile now. That sounds like her, and it’s about as good of an admission of my mom liking Theodore as I’ll ever get. Dad squats down and puts the white rose on the dirt. “Memoria De valens vivat tamque vestri.”

I can’t translate the Latin, but I think it has something do with memorial…memory ?

Audrey nods like she understands it, and I have no doubt Jane and my brothers know the translation too. But it’s one of those many times in my family that I’m not really in the mood to ask for it.

Charlie says nothing, just places the rose with the others.

“You’ll be missed,” Beckett whispers, crouching to rest his rose on the earth.

“Forever loved and cherished,” Jane says in her breezy tone. Another rose tossed.

Thatcher adds his flower to the stack, then helps Baby Maeve with hers. Jane is seriously smitten.

I’m up last, and my knees sink into the dirt. I press a hand to where I buried the shoebox. “We had a good run,” I murmur. “I’m sorry.” It was my fault. I’m sorry. “Thank you.” I nod a couple times, then stand back up.

No one says a fucking thing.

It is hilariously quiet.

“Any other words?” I ask them.

Mumbles of no, non, nope.

I nod repeatedly, letting this sink in. “No one’s going to mention why Eliot and Tom named him Theodore?”

A wicked grin spreads over Eliot’s face.

Mom skewers him with a glare. “Your tongue will be in a jar on our bookshelf fermenting. ”

He puts a hand to his heart. “My own mother would make me mute.”

“A gift to the universe.”

“A gift to your bookshelf.”

Mom raises her hand. “We are at a funeral. This is a serious matter.”

Eliot stops grinning. It just vanishes from his face completely. He concedes way too early. I look around, expecting someone else to chime in.

“Charlie?” I ask.

He shrugs, appearing bored.

I frown at the earth, then the sky, squinting.

It hits me suddenly. Maybe they feel like they’ve hurt me in the past by not being more respectful.

And so they’re trying now. “I hope you all know I love you as you are,” I say so quietly, but in the harsh silence, they can all hear.

“I might be nothing like any of you and you may’ve never loved my pets the way I did—but I’ve loved you for caring enough to be here. I’ve loved the chaos.”

My life would’ve been less full without it.

“Don’t change,” I whisper, even knowing in time everything changes, nothing is ever stagnant. The earth shifts beneath us even if we can’t feel it. Trees will grow. Eventually someone might cut them down for lumber, then hopefully plant a new one in its place. “Please.”

“Can we…?” Audrey glances not that furtively at our oldest siblings. “Should we…speak?”

“So there was a plan?” I ask them.

Audrey bursts out, “Mother said we should employ the kindergarten rule that none of us can seem to follow. If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all . That also, she said, includes anything remotely egregious or bitchy or vulgar.”

“Audrey Virginia, tattling on Mom,” Tom whispers.

Her cheeks roast. “I-I did not.”

“She did not,” Jane backs her up. “She was just being…thorough.” She nods confidently to Audrey, who nods just as resolutely back. Mom has a rare heartfelt smile that appears mostly for my sisters.

“Thoroughly annoying,” Charlie mutters.

Audrey gasps. I have no clue why she looks for his praise. She wants Charlie to tell her she’s the best sister, the best listener, the best secret-keeper, the best everything. When, in reality, he spends most of his time teasing the shit out of her.

Our dad has a burgeoning, powerful grin on our mom. “Were you not the first to break your own kindergarten rule?”

“Your memory is going,” she retorts. “It’s about time.”

“A time you will mourn.”

She purses her lips but doesn’t deny. His arm slides along her lower back, and before they catch me watching again, I tell everyone, “Say whatever you need to say.”

Eliot steps forward, clearing his throat as he announces, “To the greatest named bird in the history of the avian species?—”

“Let’s be real here,” Mom interjects, “to get a rise out of your father you named this poor little fragile animal after a dull, uninteresting person. Specifically his boarding school fling of one month .”

“Dad’s reaction could have been better,” Tom whispers.

“There’s still ample time,” Eliot tells our father. “An eye twitch of anger? A prickle of irritation?”

Dad is grinning into a laugh. “I can’t be irritated at something that will never bother me, but you’re welcome to keep trying. As always, the effort is amusing.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Mom says. “They cursed a defenseless tiny beaked creature.”

Jane stifles a laugh.

It makes me smile.

“Curses don’t exist, darling,” Dad says.

“Oh please, you’re cursed with an ego that could choke out Godzilla.”

We all laugh.

“Gifted,” he corrects.

“Did you gift it to yourself too?”

“That is the definition of ego, Rose.”

She raises her hand at his face. “And that is enough.”

His grin never dims on her.

“Mom and Dad are going to make out,” Tom whispers into a cough.

“ Tom ,” we all say together. He literally can’t help himself, and I end up laughing—swiftly, their laughter follows mine. Soul-filling, vibrantly loud noise cascades through the trees around us. It feels good until it doesn’t.

I still feel like I can’t live with my brothers long-term. Tom nearly losing his voice because of me—it’s just a reminder I can’t be around them. Even if I want to be, even if I love this. My plan has to move forward.

Everyone but me and Audrey go inside for the breakfast Chef Michael whipped up. He’s been my family’s private chef for years and he’d make mouth-watering blueberry vegan pancakes every Sunday for me.

Ignoring my growling stomach, I spend extra time with my sister while I’m here.

She spreads out a quilt that Beckett sewed for her years ago. “His love language is gift giving,” Audrey says, seeing me staring at the quilt, then she smiles at the baseball cap on my head.

My favorite worn-out blue ballcap was a gift from Beckett. It’d been his when he was a kid. “He does it well,” I say.

“Too well. I’m envious.” She plops onto the quilt while I lie on the earth, staring up at the clouds. She’s quick to tell me, “Everyone just worries about you, you know.”

Turning onto my side, I prop on my elbow to face her. “No one needs to walk on eggshells around me. I’m doing fine.”

“But you’re still not speaking to Winona. She was your best friend.”

“She’s one of your best friends.”

“We can both have the same best friend, like we had for years. It was a pleasant time, wasn’t it, Ben?” She slips off her gloves, waiting for my response.

“Yeah,” I nod. It was. I have no complaints about my childhood and adolescence.

Even the saddest days couldn’t wash away the love.

I felt rich because of my enormous family, including the Hales and Meadows.

Not because of the trips around the world, the trust fund, the luxury cars, the mansions.

Even now, my pockets might be empty, but I’m going to feel the most broke when I never come back home.

I know this.

I push past the ache in my chest. It’s hard not to think of Harriet when I do.

I thought about inviting her to this backyard funeral, but I’d rather introduce her to my parents one-on-one and not among all my siblings.

It’d overwhelm most anyone, and after what happened on Friday night, she might need a breather from the chaos.

Plus…it might not be a good idea to do yet. I shouldn’t draw closer to her unless I explain more of my situation. So yeah, I need to do that first.

I focus on my sister. “How’s school going?” She updates me over text every day. “Did you finally convince drama club to let you in?” Her and Kinney have been getting more involved in extracurriculars to take their mind off not having Winona and Vada around.

“No, I fear it’s a lost cause. I found out that Mandy Dean hates me because Eliot wouldn’t give her older sister a third date when he was at Dalton.

And Father might not believe in curses, but Eliot most assuredly cursed me.

So now you can’t rest easy living with a curser.

” She lifts her veil, so I can see her face more clearly. Hurt creases her eyes.

I didn’t choose Eliot over you , I want to tell her.

But I did.

“No one’s giving you crap though? No guys are messing with you or Kinney?”

Audrey sighs. “You don’t have to ask me that every time we talk.” She slowly folds her gloves. “I’d tell you if someone were harassing me.”

“Like you told me about Winona?”