The day had finally come to say the last goodbye to Rafael and Hans.
James hadn't slept much, his thoughts consumed by that book, what was in it, what Rafael might have written about him.
But that was the past.
In the present, the only thing that mattered was saying goodbye without guilt, even if that was impossible.
He was already dressed in his black suit, staring at himself in the mirror of his room.
In his hand were pills, not the necessary medicine he had to take, but sedatives to ensure he wouldn't break down as they lowered the coffins. Pills that would keep him from crying, yet still allow him to feel the weight of the moment.
But he wasn't sure whether to take them or let his emotions take over, to break down and cry, because it was his little brother.
"James?" His mother opened the door and stepped beside him.
She was dressed in all black, a bucket hat on her head, and tinted sunglasses covering her eyes. But for this moment, she pulled them down.
