Legendary // H.S

41.

'I never meant you any harm'

*

I've never been to a funeral before. As a kid, I had a weird fascination with them. Whenever Dad had to leave me in the care of a babysitter for the day when he attended such an event, I would beg for him to take me with him, convinced it would be a fun excursion. Even as I got older I always secretly wanted to experience that sort of setting. To see the anguish on someone's face and how they chose to deal with it.

This is my first experience with grief, too. It's been two weeks since Joe's murder, and in that time I only cried once. I expected to be sobbing every day after what I witnessed, but for some reason, the tears refused to fall. My body became numb after that day, moving into autopilot as I tried to push the sadness away. I denied the very occurrence of his death in the days after, refusing to talk about it or the person that caused it. There was a slight nonchalance to the way I responded when questions were asked, going about my life as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. Everything felt normal for a few days. I felt content being in the company of Harry, having now taken up residence in his house due to a lack of safety at my own. Then, one evening it hit me, and I cried for hours on end until I physically couldn't stay awake any longer.

After that, I slept. For days I laid in Harry's bed, ignoring the world as day turned to night. I would stare out the window and watch as the sun rose and set every day, waiting for the pain to disappear but it never did. I didn't eat, I barely slept. Harry even decided to stay in the guest room to give me space. As much as I missed his presence, the thought of having someone near me only made it worse. He'd try and comfort me at all hours of the day, when all I wanted was silence. Eventually he understood, only checking on me every few hours to see if I needed anything.

Life for the team went on as normal. All of them preparing for the heist that was due in the next week or so, while I stayed hidden behind these four walls, alone with my melancholy. An affliction so draining, so detrimental to both my mental and physical health, yet I didn't care. All I wanted was for the world to swallow me whole and end the suffering.

What made it worse, was how much I blamed myself over those weeks. I still do. Hugo had sent Joe to find something from me. And now he's dead, because he couldn't do what was asked. I can only assume, anyway. I've thought a lot about Joe's words recently, replaying them in my fractured mind as if they'll bring me solace. If he was still snooping that day I caught him, then surely he can't have found what he was instructed to. It makes sense that Hugo had him killed because he couldn't succeed with his task. But it brings me no closer to figuring out what he wanted. If Hugo is willing to murder people for it, then it's certainly important. I just need to find it before he does.

Now, I stand in a room crowded with people. Most I don't recognise, but there's a select few I know personally. They hover around Joe's parents, giving them their condolences. Everyone in this room carries a look of sorrow for the life that was lost in an untimely manner. 'Gone too soon,' many have uttered as they approach the family. If only they knew what really happened, and why.

Of course, the murder was covered up as a tragic accident. After Hugo's police were sent round there, a blaze was lit so any evidence of confrontation was removed, and a body could not be salvaged. Against the families wishes, what was left was cremated, and now we're stood at the wake, remembering a life that was stolen.

I surround myself with thieves every day, but nothing could have prepared me for the robbery that happened that day.

As a result, the sadness has left my body, and all I feel is anger. No more am I the weak and fragile woman that had to listen to her ex be shot, nor am I the person that will rely on the protection of others. This has become personal. If Hugo Charles wants a game, then I will be the participant of his nightmares. There is a fury that's embers burn inside of me, and I am ready to fan those flames.