The rain continued its relentless descent, a chorus of droplets accompanying the somber melody of the funeral. The mourners, a collective of broken hearts, found solace under the shelter of their umbrellas, a forest of black canopies against the weeping sky.
At the head of the casket stood a priest, his robes a beacon of white in the monochrome landscape. His voice, deep and resonant, cut through the patter of the rain, offering words of comfort and passages of hope.
"Let us pray," he intoned, his hands clasped before him, eyes closed in reverence. "Almighty, we stand before you today united in our sorrow, seeking solace in Your eternal grace. We commend to You, Rachel, a beloved wife, a cherished mother, a dear friend. May her soul find peace in Your heavenly kingdom, and may those she leaves behind find strength in Your boundless love."
Ryder's gaze was fixed on the priest, his mind grappling with the words that spoke of eternity and separation. Emily and Jack, nestled close to their father, listened to the priest's prayers, a lifeline in the storm of their grief.
Lucas, Sophia, Emma, and Ava each absorbed the priest's message, a balm to their aching spirits. The other family members stood in quiet contemplation, the priest's words weaving a tapestry of memory and legacy, a tribute to Rachel's indelible mark on their lives.
As the priest concluded with a final blessing, the rain seemed to soften, a gentle lullaby to accompany the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. The mourners, their faces lifted to the heavens, allowed the rain to wash over them, a symbol of renewal amidst the pain.
And as they each took a turn to bid farewell, the priest's presence remained a comforting constant, his prayers a whisper of hope against the backdrop of loss.
As the mourners began their solemn departure, Ryder's eyes caught a solitary figure standing apart from the rest. It was Vaughn, his posture betraying nothing of his thoughts. With a heavy heart, Ryder instructed Lucas to shepherd Emily, Jack, and the others to the car, his voice barely above the murmur of the rain.
Ryder approached Vaughn, his steps measured, his mind a whirlwind of accusation and despair. "Where were your agents when I needed them, Vaughn?" Ryder's voice was a low growl, barely contained. "Why is it that the agency excels at arriving when they're least required?"
Vaughn's expression was one of regret, his eyes meeting Ryder's with a somber clarity. "I made the call to suspend surveillance on you, Ryder. I didn't foresee this tragedy," he admitted, his voice steady despite the accusation.
Ryder's grief was a tangible force, his next words laced with a bitter edge. "Save your condolences, Vaughn. They're as empty as the assurances of safety you once gave."
The guilt that had been gnawing at Ryder's conscience spilled forth. "I've lied to everyone about how she died," he confessed, the words heavy with the weight of his deception.
Vaughn's response was gentle, an attempt to ease the burden that Ryder bore. "It's for their protection, Ryder. Sometimes the truth is a luxury we can't afford."
The rain seemed to pause, acknowledging the gravity of their exchange. Ryder stood, the conflict within him as tumultuous as the storm that had passed. Vaughn's presence, both a reminder of failure and a beacon of unwelcome support, left Ryder in a limbo of emotions.
Ryder's parting words to Vaughn were devoid of gratitude, "Thanks for nothing," he muttered, his voice barely rising above the sound of the rain. As he turned to leave, Vaughn's voice halted him, a desperate plea cutting through the downpour.
"Ryder, I can help you avenge Rachel. With my assistance, the White Widow will be at your mercy," Vaughn declared, his tone earnest, seeking redemption.
YOU ARE READING
G.H.O.S.T.S
Action"G.H.O.S.T.S" Ryder's exit from the army is a silent retreat from the cacophony of war, a step back from the precipice of a life spent in service. The agency, a beacon in the aftermath of his military career, offers him a chance to redirect his expe...
