On The Day Of My Sister’s Funeral, Her Boss Called Me: “You Need To See This!”

No.

My stomach tightened.

Process was a word people used when they wanted something signed without questions.

“What documents?” I asked.

Her smile tightened.

“We’ll show you tonight.”

“That won’t work for me.”

They exchanged a quick look, the kind that said they hadn’t considered I might refuse.

My brother leaned in.

“Laura, you don’t need to make this difficult.”

There it was.

The wrong sentence at the wrong time to the wrong person.

I looked him straight in the eye.

“You’re assuming it’s supposed to be easy.”

He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it when our mother glanced over.

He stepped back, jaw tight.

I excused myself again before the room got smaller. I didn’t want to explode at him in front of our parents. Not today.

Instead, I went to the hallway where no one else stood and texted David Grant.

This is Laura. I can come now.

He replied almost instantly.

Not the office. Meet me at the staff entrance. Fifteen minutes.

No explanation.

I pocketed my phone and walked back into the main room. My mother asked where I was going. I kissed her cheek and said I needed fresh air. I didn’t tell her I was leaving. I didn’t tell anyone.

I just walked out, keys in hand, feeling the weight of every pair of eyes that might have been watching.