The Shadows We Hide

Chapter 7

Catherine POV

3 months later

Three months had passed since that fateful day, but the wound still felt fresh.

I woke up to a throbbing headache, the weight of my grief bearing down on me like a physical force.

As I turned to my right, I saw Zak sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil that ravaged my mind. The cruel irony wasn't lost on me – we were expecting a new life, a new beginning, while still reeling from the loss of our precious Cassidy.

I carefully got out of bed, trying not to disturb Zak. My eyes wandered to the photo of Cassidy on our bedside table, her bright smile a stark contrast to the darkness that had consumed our lives.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I thought about the secret I had been keeping from Zak – the funeral I had planned for Cassidy, a chance for us to say our final goodbyes.

As I made my way to Cody's room, my heart heavy with concern for my son, I couldn't help but think about the events that had led us to this point.

The memories of Cassidy's laughter, her bright smile, and her infectious energy still lingered in my mind.

But they were now tainted by the pain of her loss, the weight of which threatened to crush me at every turn.

I found Cody lying in bed, his eyes sunken, and his skin pale. He had been struggling to cope with the loss of his sister, and the weight of our collective grief had taken a toll on his mental health.

I handed him his medication and a glass of water, trying to offer what little comfort I could.

"Cody, today's the day," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. "We're going to say goodbye to Cassidy."

Cody's eyes welled up with tears, and he nodded silently. We had agreed to keep the funeral a secret from Zak, who seemed more concerned with putting on a brave face than actually confronting his emotions.

As we made our way out of the house, I left a note for Zak, telling him that we had gone out for ice cream. The deception felt bitter in my mouth, but I knew it was necessary.

The hospital's chapel was a somber, yet peaceful space. The doctors and nurses had kindly offered to let us use the hall for Cassidy's funeral, and I was grateful for their compassion.

As we took our seats, I felt a sense of trepidation wash over me. This was it – our chance to say goodbye, to find some semblance of closure.

I stood up to deliver my eulogy, my voice shaking as I began to speak.

"I stand before you today, bearing the weight of a grief that feels unbearable.

Yet, even in the midst of this darkness, I am reminded of the promise of hope that we find in Christ.

"In the book of Psalms, it is written, 'The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.' (Psalm 34:18) These words, once a source of comfort for me, now feel hollow and distant.

But I hold on to them, because they remind me that our God is a God of compassion, of mercy, and of love.

"Cassidy's life was a testament to that love. Her smile could light up a room, her laughter was infectious, and her heart was full of kindness.

She was a precious gift, lent to us for a brief time, and now she is gone.

"But even in death, I believe that Cassidy's life speaks to us of the hope that we have in Christ. The hope that death is not the end, but rather a new beginning. The hope that we will one day be reunited with our loved ones, in a place where there is no more sorrow, no more pain, and no more tears.

"As I struggle to come to terms with the loss of my precious daughter, I am reminded of the words of the apostle Paul, who wrote, 'We do not grieve as others do who have no hope.' (1 Thessalonians 4:13) We have hope, not because we are strong, but because our God is strong. We have hope, not because we understand, but because we trust.

"So let us hold on to that hope, even when it feels like it's slipping through our fingers. Let us cling to the promise that God is with us, even when we can't feel His presence. Let us trust that He is working all things together for our good, even when we can't see the way forward.

"Rest in peace, my dear Cassidy. May your life be a testament to the hope that we have in Christ, and may your memory continue to inspire us to live our lives with kindness, compassion, and love."

As I finished speaking, I felt a sense of exhaustion wash over me. I had given everything I had to that eulogy, pouring out my heart and soul in the hopes of finding some semblance of closure.

The funeral ended, and we made our way back home, the weight of our emotions still heavy in the air.

As we walked through the front door, I saw Zak sitting on the couch, his eyes fixed on some distant point. I felt a sense of unease wash over me, knowing that we had to confront him about our secret.

"Where have you been, Catherine?" Zak asked, his voice low and even.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I wrote a note saying we went out for ice cream," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Zak's eyes narrowed. "I know you left the note.

But you're lying. Care to explain why Lawrence called me to tell me he saw you enter the hospital? With flowers at that."

I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead as Zak's anger simmered just below the surface. "Oh, yes! We just went to say hi to the doc-"

Zak's face turned red with rage. "CATHERINE!!! STOP LYING!!! CODY! TELL ME WHERE YOU WERE RIGHT NOW!"

Cody remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor. Zak's anger boiled over, and he rushed towards Cody, his fists clenched.

I intervened, trying to protect my son, but Zak's anger was too much. He pushed me away, and I fell onto my back, the wind knocked out of me.

As I struggled to catch my breath, I saw Zak punch Cody in the face. I screamed, my voice hoarse with fear, as Zak's anger consumed him.

He pushed me again, this time with more force, and I felt a searing pain in my stomach as I hit the edge of the table.

Everything went dark as I collapsed onto the floor, the sound of Zak's rage fading into the distance.