The funeral was supposed to be small, consisting of the Wongs, a few of Charlie’s teachers, and his friend from up the street. The service was held at a small Methodist church that her family attended infrequently. But the media had made a tragic event story out of Charlie’s death and the fire. Signs, flowers, candles, and teddy bears were piled up in a memorial to Charlie, and the pews of the church were filled with strangers, brought together only by the tragedy of a small boy’s untimely death.
Mina was numb. Her mind barely functioned, and she had the hardest time completing the simplest tasks, like eating and getting dressed. It was too painful to breathe, and when she did remember to inhale, every breath was complete agony. Sara had always been the strong one—during her husband’s funeral, and even now as she held Mina’s hand during the eulogy. The pastor was saying very nice things about her brother—what kind of boy he was, who he would have been if he’d had a chance to grow up, and how he was now in the arms of the Lord. The pastor’s words brought some comfort, but they did little to erase the guilt that was slowly eating away at Mina. Negligence. That was the word a reporter had used when describing the fire, and how the older sister who was supposed to be babysitting was negligent in her duties.
She stared at the child-size coffin and felt her throat seize up with more guilt and sadness. She had cried all she could and was unable to cry anymore—her tears had dissipated, but the pain hadn’t. Someone, probably a choir member, sang a beautiful song about heaven and angels, and Sara was moved to tears. The pastor ended with a prayer. Finally, it was time. The moment she’d been dreading. The burial. Sara and Mina rode with the Wongs behind the hearse as they headed to Gray’s Lake Cemetery.
It wasn’t a beautiful plot, or a prime spot. It was actually close to the road and near the entrance, but it was all they could afford. Mina thought her brother deserved better, somewhere shaded and maybe with a view, but then again, it wasn’t like Charlie was actually in the coffin. His body was never recovered. The flames had burned so hot and so quickly. The firefighters said there wasn’t anything left to recover other than the sole of one of Charlie’s rain boots, which had been found under the couch. It was then that they had to face the truth—he had died in the fire.
The memories of that night were always close to the surface, like a teakettle about to boil over, ready to send her into a spiral of hurt and pain and loss. They had stayed up all through the night and watched in vain as all the possessions they owned went up in smoke. That same night, the Wongs were taken to the police station, where they filled out paperwork and gave their statements about what had transpired and who could have started the fire. There were some nasty accusations being thrown out about arson to collect insurance on the building, but Mina knew those accusations wouldn’t stick.
But that left Sara and Mina alone. Once the blaze was contained, rescue workers asked if they could notify family to come and get them, but that sent Sara Grime into a frenzy.
“No! There’s no one. We have no family,” Sara answered.
The young man looked saddened. “Well, then, ma’am, let me at least take you to a shelter. They have showers, and you can get a warm meal. I’m sure— ”
The slamming of a car door cut the young man off, and Sara looked up in surprise at the white Lexus. Sara’s boss, Terry, stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked sternly over to Sara.
“Now, Sara, I know that you are going to try and tell me no, but as your boss, I’m telling you that you can’t. You’re coming home with me.”
“Terry, I can’t possibly…you can’t be serious.”
Terry’s heart-shaped face and blue eyes peeked out from behind slim jeweled spectacles. Her grayish-white hair was pulled into a severe bun. She wasn’t wearing the Happy Maid uniform of khaki pants and polo that Sara and the other employees wore. She was in a gray business skirt, white blouse, and jacket. Expensive rings covered each of her short fingers, displaying evident wealth.
She held up her hand, hushing Sara. “No. Think about it, Sara. I’m your only friend beside Mei Wong. You know that it’s either with me or the shelter, and I refuse to let my friend who just lost a family member stay at a place like that.”
Sara’s mouth opened and closed in shock before she finally nodded her head. She turned to Mina and gestured toward the white car. They had nothing to load into the trunk except for a few blankets people had given them, and of course the Grimoire.