Rosie grabbed the doorframe. “Don’t — please —”
Neil didn’t turn around. “I won’t host a lie.”
A cousin stepped forward. “Rosie, is that true?”
Rosie stared down at the floor. “I just wanted things to go well. I didn’t think —”
“You don’t think! You don’t ever think about anyone else other than yourself.”
Rosie’s head snapped up. “If you let them blame me, Cassie — if you say it out loud — don’t expect Mom to ever speak to you again.”
Near the kitchen, a woman leaned close to her husband, whispering.
Another woman I barely recognized spoke up. “Rosie, you moved your party to the day of your niece’s funeral? Who does that? We don’t want people like you living here.”
Rosie bristled. “That’s not fair. I have my own life. Do you all expect me to disappear every time something goes wrong for Cassie?”
I stepped forward. “Rosie, when you called, I was standing in my kitchen with a casserole and an empty seat at my table. You were throwing a party, and I had just buried my child. I still had cemetery dirt under my nails, Rosie. That’s how fresh it was.”
Rosie’s eyes darted around the room. “I — I just thought maybe you’d want something to look forward to.”
I held her gaze. “Pretending this didn’t happen is what keeps us broken, Rosie. Grief doesn’t end because you hang up the phone.”
Neil’s voice trembled. “Cassie lost her daughter, and you managed to make it about you. And our home.”
“So, I’m just the villain for moving on?”
He looked at her, pain plain in his eyes. “No, but your version of moving on leaves everyone else behind.”
A neighbor broke the silence. “Cassie, we’re so sorry. No one told us.”
Another woman nodded. “Nancy deserved better. So did you.”
Around us, plates were set down and voices hushed. Rosie’s bravado shrank. “Fine. Blame me if it makes you feel better. At least I know who really stands with me.”
“I don’t need your blame or your approval,” I said. “I needed a sister. Nancy needed an aunt who saw her, not just her own reflection. Today was about you, and now you see who’s left.”
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