Where You Go ― Jason Grace

epilogue

OPHELIA DIDN'T LIKE CEMETERIES. As a medium, graveyards were a breeding ground for migraines and annoying spirits asking for favors. Ever since her mother's curse had become hers to bear, she'd made it a point to stay away from them whenever she could. 

But, sometimes, she had to make an exception. 

There was a faint autumn chill in the air as she bent down, placing the bouquet of white carnations at the base of the gravestone. She rose just as slowly, her eyes tracing the stone's engraving with a heavy heart. 

LOVING SON, BROTHER, AND BOYFRIEND
MORS VINCIT OMNIA

She stood there, frozen in the moment, unable to speak. There were no words left that she hadn't already said a hundred times. Every variation of I miss you and I wish it hadn't turned out like this and come back had slipped out of her mouth at one point or another. 

"I can't believe how long it's been," her friend murmured. "Sometimes it feels like I just saw him yesterday." 

Ophelia swallowed against the tightness in her throat. No matter how many years passed, she felt the same. She could still see him in her mind, his face frozen in youth. No matter how long it had been, the wound still felt fresh. 

"I miss him," Ophelia whispered. "Every day." 

"Me too," her friend sighed. "But at least he's at peace. That's all we can hope for." 

Ophelia nodded. 

The pair stood there for a long, lingering moment, letting the breeze wash over them. 

Finally, Ophelia pressed her fingers to her mouth, then to the stone, murmuring a whispered prayer for eternal peace before turning away. 

When they got back to the house, the faintest smell of something burning greeted them. Ophelia's lips quirked up in an amused smile as she followed her friend toward the kitchen. 

"Mama!" 

As soon as the two women stepped foot in the kitchen, a tiny body launched itself at them. 

Gianna's solemn expression brightened into an infections grin as she caught her daughter in her arms, lifting her up in the air. "Well, hello to you, too, Hannah." 

"Did your friend like the picture I drew him?" the five-year-old asked, dark brown eyes wide with hope.

"He loved it," Gianna said. "You'll have to draw him another one when I go next time." 

"Okay!" Hannah agreed happily. "I'll draw him a penguin next time! Or a hippo!" 

Ophelia's smile grew. "He'd love that, Han." 

The kid grinned like she'd just won first place at an art show. 

An arm wrapped around Ophelia's waist, and she didn't have to look to know who it belonged to. 

"Hi."

"Hi yourself," Ophelia said, turning her head to kiss Jason's cheek. 

"How was the cemetery?"

Ophelia shrugged, leaning into his warmth. "As gloomy and depressing as ever. I'm sure Matt appreciates us brightening the place up with Hannah's drawings and the flowers." 

"You okay?" 

She nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. "I'm okay." She turned her attention back toward the kitchen.  "Why does it smell like smoke in here?" 

"That would be Scott," Jason said, nodding at the culprit. 

Hannah giggled. "Daddy burned the pasta!"