How She Came Home

Chapter Sixty-One

Note: I was supposed to ghost you for two weeks before I do an update (to build up some suspense and excitement). But a self-proclaimed #2 mistress of Freen persuaded me to do an update so here's 2 chap for you, guys.

---

The press got ahold of the story the following day, and one William Dey was the only one with the inside scoop on the fact that Freen had been engaged to Becca, dropping that bombshell in an article detailing their tragic love story instead of focusing on the other ten people that had died too.

She didn't read it, of course, didn't turn on the TV and see the running stories or the search results on her laptop; Becca stayed in bed, oblivious to everything else. Even if she'd been aware of it, she doubted she would've even had a shred of energy within her to care.

As it was, Becca couldn't even lift her head off the pillow, slipping in and out of sleep and bouts of wakefulness where she stared at the wall and waited for sleep to come again.

Periodically, someone would open the door - her mother, she assumed; the only one who wasn't a wreck right now - and check on her before leaving her alone again. Becca stayed curled into a ball, her body heavy and her mind muddled as she nursed the gaping wound inside her

It was the sound of a raised voice that stirred her, more so out of aloof curiosity than anything else, and Becca dragged herself from her bed and wearily plodded downstairs as the conversation grew louder. The raised voice was unmistakably Mind's but it wasn't until Becca reached the bottom of the stairs that Becca could pinpoint who her anger was directed at and why.

"It hasn't even been two days. How are you even talking about this right now?" Mind snapped, standing with her shoulders taut and her hands balled into fists.

Nun looked up at her with resigned exhaustion, "she doesn't... have a- a body. We have to assume..."

"It's too soon."

"We need to... make arrangements. We need closure."

"Putting an empty box in the ground isn't going to fix anything."

The breath rushed from Becca's lungs at the devastating realization that they were discussing her funeral. It didn't even seem possible that they could be having a conversation like that. Not about Freen.

Feeling faint as she paled, Becca hugged her arms to herself and swallowed, her chapped lips trembling slightly as she watched, hollow-eyed.

Mind noticed her presence and gave her a pleading look, "Becca, tell her."

"You're the executor," Nun hoarsely told her, clutching an envelope tightly in her hands, "she wanted you to do this. I- please, Mind, we have to do this. Do this for her."

She held it out to her daughter and Mind scoffed, batting it aside. Nun's hand lowered back to her lap as she looked down at it and Becca swallowed thickly, rubbing at her stinging eyes as she willed everyone to just leave.

They'd all stayed at her house, craving the comfort of being together, but she just wanted to curl up in a ball in bed and let the rest of her life quietly pass her by.

"She didn't deserve this," Mind cried, gesturing widely as she let out a huff of defeat. "She should be coming home next week. Not- not being remembered because we don't even have a fucking... body. I won't be a part of this. I can't."

Nam reached out for her to soothe her, to calm her down, but Mind shrugged off her touch and stalked towards Becca, towards the door. Looking at her and seeing the Same hollowness of grief inside her, Becca stepped aside and let her slip past, her footsteps loud and angry on the stairs until a door shut up on the second floor.