Page 27 of Duress (Birch Falls #3)

EVERLY

G ray clouds hang heavy in the sky, threatening to open and unleash a torrential downpour.

The funeral home planned ahead and set up two pop-up canopies on either side of the grave, to cover those in attendance.

I’m sitting in the front row, next to Bryce, who is sitting next to his mother, one arm wrapped her shoulders as her body shakes with silent sobs.

Dane is on the other side of Caroline, staring at the casket hovering over the open pit in the ground, waiting to be lowered into its final resting place.

His face is an emotionless mask. Only the silent tears dampening his cheeks give away his anguish.

Since Jake’s death a week ago, I’ve barely stopped crying myself, torn apart from the inside with grief and guilt.

Watching Caroline, a once vibrant and engaging woman with a smile for everyone, fade into a mere ghost of herself has been heartbreaking.

I’ve come over every day after work to deliver meals for her and Dane, clean her house to keep it presentable for the random well-wishers and mourners who keep stopping by, and just to be there if she needs to talk.

During these visits I’ve managed to keep my composure, careful to be a safe space for Caroline to dump her grief into, rather than burdening her with my own.

Bryce has even been coming by every day to check on his mother and brother in an unusual show of compassion.

We’ve spent more time with Caroline and Dane this past week than the previous five years of our relationship combined.

Bryce has sat patiently with his mother while holding her hand and letting her sob into his Oxford button-downs, letting her pour her heartbreak into him.

He’s even offered a few words of comfort to Dane, but his brother, in true teenage boy fashion, has retreated into himself.

He only appears from his room to eat and take out the trash, only offering head nods and grunts in greeting, refusing to actually talk to anyone.

My relationship with Bryce has been tense since his confession of what really happened the night Jake died.

The first few days I begged him to find a way to come clean, the burden of carrying such a huge secret crushing me under its weight.

Even though it was an accident, Bryce assured me in the eyes of the law it would not be seen that way.

Not after he covered it up. There would be no way for him to confess and not have it look like it was premeditated.

Bryce would at the very least be charged with manslaughter—at worst, first degree murder.

That would result in a catastrophic domino effect that would ripple through both our families, taking away one of Caroline’s last remaining pillars of support, and causing an uncomfortable backlash against my dad, who has been very involved in Bryce’s career so far.

Holding this secret in feels like a cancer eating me from the inside, but Bryce is right.

Telling the truth will only cause more hurt for everyone involved.

The crowd in attendance is small. Caroline only wanted immediate family for the graveside service.

It’s us; Jake’s parents; his siblings, Michael and Sara; and their families.

Bryce talked so little of Jake that I didn’t even know he had siblings until he died.

They don’t live close by, but judging by the devastation on their faces, they clearly adored their brother and had a close relationship with him.

The priest recites the closing scripture, Psalm 23, before asking if anyone would like to say any final words before Jake Wilcox is laid to rest. Caroline lets out a devastated wail, like she’s somehow been holding in the worst of her pain this entire time and the announcement that it is time to put Jake into the ground is the final crack in the dam holding back the full force of her grief.

The priest flicks a concerned look her way, waiting to see if she will speak, but Bryce just nods for him to continue on, while holding his mother tightly to him.

I notice Dane snake one of his hands over to her lap so he can hold her hand too, but he doesn’t move to say anything.

Just as the coffin begins its slow descent into its final resting place, the sky opens up, fat raindrops pelting the canopy above us in a deafening barrage.

Under the cover of the downpour, I finally let my own sob burst free, unable to hold back my own tortured grief any longer.