Chapter 1：Ch 1: Get in the car, honey

"Get in the car." Owen. The deep familiar voice barely penetrated her thoughts. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she did hear it beyond the haze of her grief.

In fact, out of all of the people there, he was probably the only one that she would hear. It's going to rain, Abigail thought tilting her head up and to look at the dark clouds forming overhead.

It seemed fitting for a funeral; almost symbolic. If it was a reflection of her sorrow, it should have been a torrential downpour. A slight fall breeze picked up and brushed over her upturned face causing her bangs to be pushed to one side of her forehead.

How she wished this was just a dream, even a nightmare would be welcome about now. At least that would be something she could wake up from then everything would return to normal. Normal. Abigail hadn't known normal since her parents died years ago.

Now, this. When she didn't respond to the masculine command she felt a large strong hand squeeze her shoulder gently followed by his concerned voice again, "Get in the car, honey.

I'll take care of the rest." Abigail heard the deep vibrating compassion in his voice and she was too upset to argue. Guiding her eyes up to him like she was in a trance, she slowly nodded. Then like a zombie she let him lead her through the throng of people dressed in black.

She could feel their sympathetic looks and purposely avoided their gazes. It would be better for her to focus on other things, like the scenery.

Absently she stepped across the manicured grass and around headstones toward the sleek black stretch limousine with the gentle guidance of his hand against the small of her back.

Oddly she found herself thinking of the weirdest things. Like, why do people wear black when they mourn? It's just more depressing.

The Driver dutifully opened the door for her severing her thoughts, and with assistance by a strong hand, she climbed into its luxurious interior not paying attention to the lush surroundings but instead choosing to look out the window over the variant combination of headstones, statues, and crypts that scattered through the cemetery.

She heard him say he'd be a few minutes and she nodded but didn't say anything. Tears slipped from her emerald eyes and tided down her alabaster cheeks.

Now she had no one. Her cousin, the last of her family was killed overseas in a senseless war! He had been paying to put her through school, but all of that seemed menial in the face of this tragedy.

Joseph was dead. Everything that Joseph had insisted that she do have ground to a halt. The house their parents left them had mortgage payments and Joseph was taking care of all of it.

It wasn't a great asset, because they never had much money, so it was small, but it was theirs. I need to get a job, she thought inattentively.