The cemetery was nearly empty by the time Arianne approached the mausoleum.
The rain had softened into a steady drizzle. The ground beneath her shoes was damp, the soil dark where it had been disturbed only hours earlier. She entered the mausoleum. The graves were surrounded by fresh flowers.
Her footsteps sounded louder than she expected, each one echoing briefly before dissolving into silence.
She placed the bouquets of white lilies on each grave, adjusting the stems so they lay neatly against the stone.
She adjusted them twice, then once more, aligning the leaves until nothing jutted out of place. The small act of order steadied her more than she expected.
Two names were etched side by side—names she knew, but never expected to read in stone so soon. Attending their funeral wasn't on her to-do list for this year.
Alex and Layla were buried together. Even in death, they did not part.
The dates beneath their names felt wrong in their finality. Too close together. Too abrupt. She traced neither, keeping her hands firmly in her coat pockets instead.
"I came," she whispered after a long silence. Her words felt inadequate, and she added, "I'm sorry I was late."
The words settled into the space between the graves and did not return an answer. The mausoleum remained still, unmoved by apology or explanation.
The first time she heard the news of Alex's death from Gilbert, Arianne felt something break inside her.
Alex and Layla had been trying to convince her to return to Montclair City, assuring her that no one would dare to mess with her again while they were around.
She stood there for a long moment, unsure of what else to say.
Arianne had no friends growing up. It never bothered her. She excelled in her studies, kept her distance, and learned early how to stand on her own. When she met Alex, he decided that wasn't acceptable.
He adopted her into his circle without asking her opinion, asserting his wishes.
They were academic rivals at first. Winning against Alex never felt satisfying. Losing to him felt worse.
Alex could be annoying when he wanted to be. Even when they were younger, he tried to get involved with her affairs. He would challenge her in class, make a bet with her during a race, declaring victories before they were won. For Arianne, he had been relentless, infuriating, and impossible to ignore.
Their rivalry turned into something steadier over time. The rivals became partners, each becoming a side of a coin, always together.
Arianne remembered Alex not as the domineering CEO everyone knew, but as the boy on a bicycle, shouting over his shoulder as rain poured down around them.
"Come on, Aria! Pedal faster!"
It was her first time riding a bicycle. She had already fallen twice before she managed to keep her balance. The path was steep, and her legs burned as she tried to keep up.
"You can go ahead," she told him. "Don't wait for me."
The rain came suddenly. They abandoned the race and took shelter under a tree that did little to keep them dry.
Alex laughed.
"You're always studying," he told her. "Don't you ever get bored?"
Arianne didn't answer. Studying was easier than thinking about what she wanted. It was a distraction she needed. She would rather bury herself in her textbooks than allowing her to feel her loss and what she couldn't obtain.
When rumors spread about her and Alex, she found them ridiculous. Alex reacted the same way. He joked about it, laughed it off, and made it clear to anyone listening that he saw her as a sister.
"If I marry Aria, I would always live in fear," he once said with a grin.
Their friends laughed at his words while Arianne tried her best not to roll her eyes.
"Also, Aria can't just marry anyone. Since she doesn't have a reliable father or a big brother to protect her, Gil and I would make sure she ends up with someone who would treat her right. If we have to, we will walk her to the altar and give her hand to her groom."
He was protective in ways she never asked for. He'd taken the role of an older brother she never asked for.
The image faded as quickly as it had come. The distance between then and now felt impossibly wide.
Standing before his grave now, Arianne felt the weight of that absence.
Tears slid down her face before she realized she was crying.
She would miss his annoying but well-meaning presence more than she ever thought possible.
"Alex," she murmured. "You, dimwit. Why did you have to leave with Layla so early? You really know how to rile me up even in death."
She wiped her face, taking a step back.
The silence pressed in again, heavier than before. She stood there, unsure whether to stay or leave, as though either choice might cost her something she could not yet name.
Arianne was lost in her grief when she heard it.
That was when the silence broke.
A soft, stifled sob echoed through the mausoleum.
Arianne turned.
A young boy was curled on the cold marble floor, clutching a worn lion doll to his chest. His shoulders shook as he tried to stay quiet. A few steps away, partially hidden behind a stone angel, another child watched her with wide, tear-filled eyes.
She stopped. How could she not recognize the two children before her?
For the first time since she returned, she didn't know what to do.