Viona's POV
Five Days Later...
The grimness of the funeral couldn't stop me from noticing how unnaturally bright the winter morning was.
Not a single snowflake fell from the sky. Dressed in black, the mourners gathered around the open grave while the coffin hung above it, suspended by thick ropes.
Was it because I still harboured hatred towards her that I couldn't shed a single tear, even as my mother's sobs shook behind her trembling hand?
"May the Lord grant comfort to the broken-hearted, strength to the weary, and hope to those who struggle beneath the weight of this loss."
"Into God's care we now commend her."
"Amen."
As the pastor finished the final prayer, the ropes tightened. Slowly, the coffin descended into the grave before us.
Once it settled into the earth, Vivian's photograph greeted me from the headstone with a faint smile. She wore a white lace dress, her short light brown hair neatly arranged beneath a tiara woven from twisted roots and white roses.
