“You ready?” she asks softly.
I pause.
The question isn’t about dinner. Or bed. Or anything light.
For a moment, something catches in my chest, tight and unfamiliar.
But then I nod.
Not big. Not bold. Just enough.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I think I am.”
She steps closer, slipping her hand into mine.
***
The scent of burning incense drifts through the crisp morning air, curling in soft, lazy ribbons. The cemetery is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves, the distant murmur of families speaking in hushed voices, the rhythmic brush of a broom against stone.
I kneel beside Lila, my fingers tight around the bundle of incense sticks I haven’t yet lit. I exhale slowly, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s calm, practiced, focused, arranging the offerings with careful hands.
I’m out of my element. Completely.
Qingming Festival. Tomb-Sweeping Day. A tradition that’s not mine, not something I grew up with. But Lila had explained it to me—a day for honouring the dead, for tending graves, for remembering.
Today, we’re here for my mother.
I swallow, staring at the headstone in front of me. Katherine Ashcroft etched into the stone feels both familiar and foreign, like I’ve spent years trying not to look at it too closely.
I set down the bouquet of sweet peas I brought, but I feel so out of place.
Lila notices, she always does.
She doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches over and takes the incense from my hands, her fingers brushing over mine. She lights them, then passes them back to me, her eyes soft, knowing.
“You don’t have to say anything out loud” she murmurs, her voice soft, steady. “Just… say whatever you need to in here.” She presses a gentle hand over my chest, right above my heart.
I hesitate. What the hell do I even say?
I’m sorry, I should have been there. I should have done better.
The words stick in my throat, heavy, tangled.
So I do the only thing I can. I bow my head and let the silence speak for me. The incense smoke curls upward, disappearing into the sky, carrying whatever unspoken words I can’t seem to say aloud.
I exhale slowly, gripping the incense just a little tighter.
“Mum. I lost everything after you, but somehow… I found her.”
Lila stills beside me, her fingers grazing my knee.
“Thank you for helping me find my way back. I’m sorry it took so long.”
My chest tightens, but for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel suffocating—it feels right.
I swallow hard, my gaze fixed on the name carved into stone.
“I love her.”
