BURY IN THE RED CLOAK

CHAPTER 2 : QUIET REFLECTIONS

The day at school seemed to go by. The usual whispers trailed Jane through the hallways of the school, but today they sounded like some noise in a distant radio she had learned to tune out. Her thoughts were elsewhere—far from the classrooms and chatter, far from the war-lit stares of her classmates. Even Loraine's warm protection could not bring her fully back into herself.

At the tolling of the final bell, Jane slipped out of school without a word, dodging crowds on the walkways. She made her way to the cemetery, along a route she had trudged more often than she could remember since William died.It was a still cemetery, late afternoon light lying long shadows over rows of gravestones, when she arrived. She walked slowly, her steps almost hesitant, towards the grave of William. She stopped before the simple headstone, reading with her eyes tracing the name etched into it: *William Everett*.

She stood there for a moment, letting the stillness settle around her. It always felt strange being here: that feeling of being both painful and peaceful. The questions she had about William's death always felt louder in this place, but so did her memories of him. She knelt down and placed a hand on the cool stone, as if touching it could somehow bridge the gap between them.Hey, Will," she whispered, almost inaudibly. "I miss you.".

She swallowed, and the familiar lump rose up to press against her throat. Being there had no bearing on her quest for answers, but it felt like the only thing she could do to keep him close. No one spoke of him anymore not even her parents not anyone. It was as if his memory had been buried with him, but Jane refused to let it be.

She spent years in silence, bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders. She never cried-she hadn't for so long-but the ache was always lurking just beneath the surface.The sun was setting, casting a halo of gold on the cemetery when Jane stood up. Her hands had stained her jeans, and she rose to run forward, brushing against the headstone for just another second. She whispered, "I'll come back soon" - just as if she promised him, promised herself.By the time she made it home, the sky was painted with the deep blues of evening. Dark on her return, the house stood in its windows a dull reflection of the light that was fast fading. Her steps were barely audible on the wooden floors as she let herself in quietly.

Inside, the air was as thick as lead. Her mother stirred something on the stove in the kitchen while her father sat staring blankly at the television from where he sat in the living room. They hadn't seemed to notice that she was late."Where were you?" Maria's voice cut into the silence, sharper than Jane had expected. She turned away from the stove, her eyes narrowing slightly."I was...I went to visit William," Jane said, her voice quieter than she meant.Her mother's face softened, just for a moment, but then the mask of indifference slipped back on. "You should have called.""I didn't think it mattered," Jane mumbled to herself, but Maria was already turning back to the stove. There would be no argument tonight—just the usual silence.

Jane looked at her dad but he hadn't even flinched. His face was glued to the TV set as the news was being flashed across the small screen. It was like he hadn't heard a word she said.She went without saying a word, passed them and trudged upstairs to her room. The air was heavy, as if the walls were holding everything unsaid inside themselves. She pushed her bedroom door shut behind her, sank back against it for a moment, and finally exhaled.It was always this way-come home to silence, tension, parents almost not speaking to her, let alone to each other. But tonight, the pain hurt deeper, heavier. She'd spent the day with William-but it hadn't changed anything. Hadn't filled the emptiness inside.She sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide if it would forever be this way: missing her brother and spending time alone in the house, carrying the weight of all the things she'd never understand.---