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I guess I just blew it off because I was in love, and I was young enough to think that love would conquer anything.

Until one day, she ghosted me. She was my wife, and she just disappeared, then called and said I wasn’t what she wanted. I was fucking devastated. Angry. Hurt. It took years for me to move on.

“What do you think?” Lia asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

After only ten minutes, Elena’s face has already changed. I barely recognize her.

“You’re a damn genius.”

My sister grins and turns back to Elena. “I know. But thanks for acknowledging it.”Chapter 3~Elena~“Oh, God, why did I think I could do this?” I whisper as I drive Amelia and me into downtown Seattle where the funeral is being held. The thing about my family is, despite being kind of scary, they’re also quite famous in the Pacific Northwest, so they needed a big church to accommodate all of the people that would come to pay their respects. Which works well for me, as it’ll be easier for Lia and me to go unnoticed.

“No one is going to recognize you,” Lia assures me and shifts in the seat next to me. Frankly, I don’t recognize either of us.

I’m in a man’s suit, black with a silver tie. My hair is blond and not spiky like I originally thought. We decided to go more conservative than rebellious. But I have a full beard, both of my eyes are brown, and I have sunglasses tucked into my pocket, just in case.

Lia covered her long, blond hair with a brunette wig. We both have prosthetic noses on, giving our faces an entirely different shape.

I park a block down from St. James Cathedral in downtown Seattle. I’m not willing to admit it, but I feel better knowing that Archer’s parked not far from here.

I’ve been to this particular cathedral many times in my life, usually for baptisms and weddings. My parents’ funerals were held here, but I didn’t go.

I was already far away by then.

We’re not early. I wanted to be right on time, when the church would already be full. My family never starts anything on schedule because they like being the center of attention, and they want to make sure the venue is packed.

Judging by the size of the crowd still outside of the church as we drove past, I’d say that hasn’t changed in the past eight years.

“We’re just going to slip into the back pew,” I say for the fifth time since we left Lia’s house. “If there’s an open casket, which I would suspect there will be, we’ll join the line to view her, but only if we can get in the middle of a line.”

“You don’t have to go,” Lia reminds me before we exit the car.

“Yeah, I do. She was the most important person in my life, Lia. I need to say goodbye to her.”

Lia nods and reaches over to pat my hand with hers. “Let’s do this, then.”

We get out of the car and link hands as we walk down the sidewalk to the cathedral. I’m relieved to see that I was right.

The crowd out front is big. People slowly filter into the church, mingling and chatting as they do.

“I guess one thing that never changes over the years is that funerals are social occasions,” I mutter.

And now it’s time to put on the show of my life.

I act the part of a man, escorting the woman he loves. My hand is on the small of Lia’s back as I lead her up the steps and inside the church. So far, I haven’t seen any of my family, which is a feat in itself since there are so many of us.

The church is massive inside. Hushed. Stained glass and old architecture surround us. The building is an architectural masterpiece, and I’ve always loved to look at the stories in the glass.

My goal is not to speak to anyone. I may look like a guy, but there’s no way to change my voice, so Lia’s agreed to do all of the talking.

It seems the family isn’t here yet, which doesn’t surprise me. Even though they do all kinds of shady crap, they like to be on display. So, it makes sense that they’d wait for the rest of the onlookers to be seated before they enter the sanctuary.

Grandma’s casket is at the front of the church, and it’s open.

“Let’s go look before the family arrives,” I whisper to Lia. She nods, and with our hands linked, we join the line of mourners waiting their turn to see my grandmother.

The closer we get, the bigger the ball in my stomach becomes. It’s real. She’s really gone.

When we reach the casket and stand near her head, I sigh deeply as I stare down at the woman who loved me so fiercely.

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