That morning, she didn’t bother with breakfast.
Braeden just chewed the edge of a slice of toast. Neither of them could think
about eating. It seemed disrespectful to just carry on as if the death of your
best friend/boyfriend was normal. Sienna couldn’t see things ever being normal
More phone calls; some from the police,
explaining that several of her theories had proven correct; a few friends
sympathising; the worst of all were journalists. They were hungry for news and
didn’t care if they had to make all the facts up.
Sienna realised that she didn’t have that many
friends. It had always been herself and the three boys. But now their gang had
been halved in one day. There was no way she could ever trust James again.
James, apparently, was pleading guilty.
Sienna and Braeden were finally allowed to see
Keir’s corpse again that day.
Morgues were the worst places imaginable.
Sienna would brave any morgue to see Keir again, though. She just needed to see
him so badly, even if he was dead, Sienna just needed to be there with him.
That day, she discovered something she’d never
noticed or been told about by Keir. At the side of his neck was a tattoo she’d
never seen. Curly black writing spelt out her name. She cried again when she
saw that. She wished she didn’t cry so much, but she couldn’t help it.
Braeden stood nervously shifting from foot to
foot. This room surrounded by corpses reminded him of all the times he would
have to put corpses in graves while his father sacrificed ‘children of Satan.’
Sienna reached out, gently touching Keir’s
shoulder. Just being able to reach out and touch him made things both better
and worse at the same time. In a way it was good, because she was close to him.
She could see him, even if his wrists were a bloody, mangled mess and he was
even paler than he’d been when he was alive.
“Sienna, is it okay if I step outside for a
minute? It’s just…all these bodies…it’s like when my father used to make me
bury the people he shot.”
Sienna had no problem with this. She needed to
be alone with Keir, just for a few minutes at least.
She whispered back to Braeden.
As soon as Braeden left the room, Sienna began
whispering to Keir.
“I love you so much. James won’t get away with
this. He’s pleading guilty, and I hope they lock him up and throw away the
Sienna didn’t feel self-conscious, whispering
to a corpse. She needed to, or she’d go mad.
As Sienna spoke to Keir she stroked a lock of
his hair, the one that had concealed the bullet. There was a little dent like a
hole in his head where it had been. Sienna tried not to think about that.
His skin was like stone, so pale, cold and
unfeeling. There was a little glint of white-blue visible under the shadowy lid
of one eye. Sienna didn’t know if she was glad they’d closed his eyes or not.
She vividly remembered the look of fear that had still been in his wide, glassy
eyes when she’d turned him over after finding him. At least while his eyes were
closed, that frightened look was hidden.
Sienna whispered to him softly until Braeden
came back in.
They left shortly afterwards. They were going
to plan the funeral.