𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 - JJ Maybank

Chapter 109: Grave Robbing

"You're not a Pogue." 

The words reverberated around the room. JJ's shoulders slumped as he swallowed sharply.

Grace wasn't able to hold back an audible scoff this time. When Groff shot her an irritated look, she didn't bother hiding the contempt that curled her lip. 

What gave Groff the right to say such a thing? JJ's entire childhood was spent living paycheque to paycheque. He lived on the Cut his whole life. So much of his identity was tied up in being a Pogue, and now Groff wanted to strip that away.

Groff's steely gaze returned to JJ. "Come on. I can't do this myself."

With the crowbar he had plucked from Grace's clenched fists in hand, Groff wandered towards the grave.

"Should we be doing this?" JJ's voice cut through the air. "Grave robbing?"

Groff thought on it for a moment, seemingly searching for a satisfactory excuse. "I mean, it's not grave robbing if she'd want you to have it, right?"

JJ squared his shoulders and adjusted his hold on the crowbar before jabbing it into the gap of the concrete.

Grace stood back, watching worriedly as the father and son pried the slab from the wall and lugged it to the ground. 

A cobweb-covered wooden casket decorated with ornate carvings was revealed. The pair made quick work of yanking it from the wall just enough so that the top half poked out.

JJ took a step back, making his way to Grace's side and twining their fingers together. His grip was tight, so tight she was sure her hand would be bright red by the time it was released. She gave no indication of the discomfort; she only held him tighter.

The room was stale with dust and tension as Groff began to lift the lid.

JJ sucked in a sharp breath.

Grace forced herself to keep her eyes open.

Just before the corpse could be revealed, the wood clanged back into place, and he froze. "I... I... I can't," Groff choked out. "I'm sorry, son. I can't see her like this."

He hobbled over to the couple on shaky legs before patting his son on the shoulder. "You do it. You do it for me."

JJ's breathing sped up; his palms growing clammy in Grace's grasp. He'd never seen his mother—his real mother—and now the first time he would, it would be her decaying corpse.

Taking a deep breath, JJ took a tentative step forward but was quickly stopped. He didn't stop out of fear nor out of his own volition. Grace's grip on his hand grew impossibly tighter as she tugged him back towards her, halting him before he could get any closer to the casket.

"I'll do it."

JJ didn't even think before replying. "No, you won't."

Grace sucked in a sharp breath, preparing herself for whatever was waiting beyond the lacquer-coated wood. "JJ, she's your mother. You aren't seeing her dead body. I'm doing it." Her voice was filled with determination. 

The only indicator of her fear was her twitching ring finger. Her hands instinctively yearned to partake in her usual nervous twiddling, but she suppressed the urge. It would be a dead giveaway. It would tell JJ she was terrified, and then her sweet husband would never allow her to do this for him. She had to do it for him; she knew that.

With one more weak attempt at an encouraging smile, Grace made her way to the casket. Her lungs burned as she forced herself to take deep breaths, not wanting to take in the rapid gasps of air that her anxious brain would prefer. She forced herself to not look into JJ's concerned eyes and instead stared at the painting of Larissa. Grace tried desperately to cement the image into her brain so that when nightmares inevitably crept into her sleep, she could remind herself that the corpse had once been a very alive human being.