As the youngest Shelby child and twin to Finn Shelby, Kezia has spent the last 4 of her 10 years locked away for her mental defectiveness.
She returns to Small Heath under the legal guardianship of her brother, Thomas Shelby. Despite knowing she's s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
Polly watched the casket get lowered into the ground.
Beside her stood Ada with her son, Linda, Lizzie, and some of the Lees who were able to come—including its matriarch.
The service came together all rather quickly. Just two days ago, an emergency meeting was called. Polly knew, immediately, that something was wrong when Arthur called her on the phone early in the morning. Something had changed in their lives for the worst. And despite her trying, she couldn't get anything out of the man aside from sobs and grunts of pain.
She watched him as he stood above the pit. Wondered how pumped full of snow he was. He swayed slightly. Eyes unfocused and pupils blown to hell. Linda wasn't doing much better; there was nothing she could do to stop her husband from crashing to the ground like a thousand glasses.
In Arthur's hand, he held Finn's arm in a death-grip. The boy cowered, his back bent and legs weak. He was the first to react to the news of Kizzie in the meeting. As they waited for Thomas to arrive, the boy paced. A climbing sense of dread filled his lungs. Polly could do nothing to help him—she didn't try, if she was being honest. Grief needed to be felt.
Polly was worried about him. The loss of a sister—of Kizzie—would have profound effects on Arthur and Tommy, but Finn had lost a twin. She would need to keep an extra eye on him.
Across from them stood Abarama Gold and his son. Stoic and respectful. They didn't know her, but they'd seen her. Spoke to her. Felt her kindness and innocence in a family devoid of most goodness.
When Thomas told the family that her body would be buried behind his estate, under the cover of an oak tree where the horses liked to nap, there was no argument. Despite there wishing to be. Polly wanted tradition, a caravan and all the works. Arthur wanted her buried beside their mother in the cemetery. Finn, who was brave and angry enough to speak up, wanted ashes to be shared among the family. Polly admittedly liked that idea the best.
To share a piece of her. She belonged to the family.
But even in death, Tommy claimed her rights... At least now, his deputyship was void.
Polly narrowed her eyes on the man. He struggled to stand straight. Just as Finn and Arthur. Each breeze threatened to knock him off his feet.
"He has not slept," Lizzie whispered to her. "Drinking and taking God knows what."
If Thomas was any other man, Polly would tell Lizzie to get control over her man before he ended up in his own casket. Her nephew was pushing his way closer to Kizzie. Part of Polly was surprised he hadn't wound up dead already. Something inside him was keeping him here.