The house smelled like lilies—too sweet, too clean, too wrong. The kind of smell that tried to hide death but failed miserably, only coating the grief with perfume.
Bambi sat on the edge of her mattress, numb fingers curled around the small sealed package that had been delivered two days earlier. A police officer, who couldn't even look her in the eye, had placed it gently into her hands and whispered:
"Recovered from the… scene."
Recovered.
Scene.
Cold words for something so personal.
Bambi's stomach twisted as she unfolded the final layer of plastic.
Inside lay a hand.
Jade's hand.
Small, delicate, the fingers she used to braid Bambi's hair, the nails always bitten short because she'd get nervous before exams.
Only now…
The hand was charred, burned so violently the wrist bone was partly exposed. One ring remained—a twisted piece of metal from the cheap friendship band they bought together last Christmas.
Bambi screamed.
Something broke inside her that day. Something loud and sharp and permanent.
The Funeral
The coffin was closed.
No one wanted to see what was left.
No one could bear to.
Bambi stood beside the grave, arms wrapped tight around herself, the world spinning in slow motion. People whispered condolences as if words could stitch her pieces back together. They didn't know a lot of people, they didn't have a family. The people gathered were from book clubs and church.
But then—
Mateo appeared.
Late.
Clean.
Calm.
His black shirt looked too crisp for someone grieving. His hair was combed. He hadn't attended the wake. He hadn't answered Bambi's texts. And yet now, at the moment of burial, he walked toward her like a hero arriving on cue.
"Bambi…" His voice was soft, rehearsed. "I came as soon as I could."
Bambi's eyes narrowed. "Where were you?"
Mateo stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but he continued. "I'm here now. That's what matters. It's just the two of us left. You and me."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"You don't have to do this alone."
Bambi pulled away. She wanted to scream, hit him, demand the truth he kept dodging. But grief swallowed her voice.
Mateo leaned closer, lowering his tone just for her.
"I know you're hurting. I lost her too."
But his eyes…
They weren't broken.
Not shattered.
Not destroyed.
Just… inconvenienced.
Bambi stepped back, suddenly cold. Something was wrong with Mateo—something off. Something she'd ignored for months.
But before she could speak, the priest called for the final rites. People threw handfuls of soil; a soft pattering on the coffin that sounded too much like rain.
Bambi trembled.
Mateo reached for her hand.
She didn't take it.
Mateo:
I watched Bambi cry with her whole body, her whole spirit, and a strange warmth spread through me.
Not joy.
Not entirely.
But relief.
It's over.
The debt.
The fear.
The constant knot in his chest.
Jade being gone meant the loan sharks had stopped calling. No more threats. No more shame. Peace… finally.
But then a flicker of pain tightened my throat.
Jade.
My friend.
My chaos partner.
The girl who laughed too loudly and believed too deeply and fought with me like a sister.
I would miss her.
I did miss her.
But life had given me a strange blessing wrapped in tragedy:
Bambi.
Bambi was soft, fragile, and now completely alone.
Perfect.
I stepped toward her again, rehearsing lines in my head:
We only have each other now.
I'll take care of you.
I won't leave you like she did.
I had to force my face into a pained expression, biting the inside of my cheek to make my eyes water.
But inside, beneath the surface—
I felt something else.
A victory.
A new beginning.
A chance to have Bambi entirely to myself.
I figured she would reject my hand and I was right, I watched her reject my hand.
Watched her step away from me. I dint take it to heart I know she's mourning.
It was fine.
Grief made people slow. Confused.
Bambi just needed time.
I had patience.
I stood amongst the small crowd of people that came for this burial and looked down at the coffin as it lowered into the earth. Soil thudded softly.
"Goodbye, Jade," I whispered.
And for a brief second, I actually meant it.
Then I slipped my hands into my pockets, expression softening into something almost peaceful.
A future without debt.
A future with Bambi.
I'd make her see it—
Eventually.