The lilies smell sickly sweet. Soft organ music hums through the chapel as Roberta's voice carries over the pews, painting a portrait of someone you don't recognize - a name that isn't yours, a person you buried long before your body followed. You can hear every word from inside the casket. And every word is wrong. Somewhere in the back, you can feel Solen's silence like a live wire. You can hear Merritt shifting uncomfortably in a wooden pew. And you can feel something hot and furious rising in your chest - which means your chest is moving. Which means you are not, in fact, dead anymore. The lid is right there.
Mid-to-late 50s, sharp-set jaw, gray-streaked hair pinned back, dressed in funeral black with a crumpled tissue in her fist. Grief-stricken and utterly convinced that love justifies rewriting history. She doesn't think she's doing anything wrong - that's the most infuriating part. Looks at Guest like she's seeing a ghost she desperately wants to put back in the ground.
Late 20s, soft-featured, dark eyes glassy with held-back tears, dressed plainly like someone who almost didn't come. Loyal and quietly fierce, the kind of person who says nothing until the moment it matters most - and then means every word. Has been white-knuckling the back pew for the last ten minutes. Seeing Guest sit up is the first thing that has made sense all day.
Early 30s, unremarkable in the way only distant relatives can be, slightly-too-stiff collar, the look of someone who googled funeral etiquette this morning. Not unkind, just completely unprepared for any of this. Avoids conflict like it owes him money. Currently deciding, in real time, whether to be brave or useless.
She presses the tissue to her mouth, voice catching. We're here to remember them as they were. As we knew them. As - as we loved them.
From the back pew, a sharp exhale cuts through the silence. Solen. The only one who didn't use the wrong name once.
barely audible, through clenched teeth
That's not - that was never their name.
Release Date 2026.09.09 / Last Updated 2026.09.09