Heaven

Chapter 11 - A Letter To The Living

Benjamin hadn't known what to expect when he stepped into the church, but it certainly wasn't this.

The pews were full. People stood along the back walls, some even spilling into the aisles. The sheer number stunned him. He had spent most of his life believing he was more of a nuisance than anything else,a man too stubborn for his own good, too reckless. And yet, here they were.

He scanned the crowd, recognizing faces he never thought would show. Lawyers, reporters, old friends, and-his breath hitched-the families from the Fertovia case.

Parents sat in a row near the front, their children beside them, some in wheelchairs, others fidgeting in their seats. The same children Benjamin had fought for, argued for, bled for. Their presence was an unspoken acknowledgment of what he had done for them.

"Seems like You mattered more than you thought," Richard murmured beside him.

Benjamin swallowed hard but said nothing. Instead, his attention turned to the altar.

A large portrait of him stood beside the casket-a picture Amelia must have chosen. He smirked bitterly. She had picked the one where he looked just a little too serious, like he was about to argue a case.

And then, there she was.

Amelia stood at the podium, her black dress elegant but simple, her hands gripping the edges of the lectern as she spoke. Her voice was steady, but the pain was evident in every word.

"Benjamin wasn't perfect." She let out a small, sad chuckle. "Far from it. He could be frustrating, reckless, and sometimes, downright impossible. We had our fights, our struggles, and more than once, I considered throwing a shoe at him just to get him to shut up."

A quiet ripple of laughter moved through the crowd. Even Benjamin smirked. She's not wrong.

"But despite all of that... Benjamin was a fighter," she continued, her voice softening. "Not just in court, but in life. He believed, always, that if you stood your ground, if you fought hard enough, if you just refused to give up-then you could win. Not just a case, but whatever battle life threw at you."

Benjamin had never thought of himself that way. Not as someone people would remember like this.

"He wasn't perfect," Amelia repeated, her voice shaking slightly. "He may not have been a good husband But he was a good man. A loving father. And I know, wherever he is, he's probably still arguing with someone about something."

More laughter, mixed with quiet sobs.

Benjamin, Richard and Eva took seat listening to the speech,Benjamin forced himself to keep his composure. He had faced ghosts, gangsters, even death. But this-watching the people he loved mourn him-this was something else entirely.

Beside him, Richard placed a hand on his shoulder. "You were wrong, you know."

"About what?" Benjamin muttered.

Richard nodded toward the crowd. "Thinking you didn't make a difference."

Benjamin exhaled, his gaze lingering on Amelia as she stepped away from the podium, her head bowed, her hands trembling slightly.

He wanted to reach out. To tell her he was here. That he wasn't gone.

But for now, all he could do was watch.

Now James Avery stepped up to the podium, his voice steady but tinged with emotion.

"Benjamin was a true friend," he began, his words carrying the weight of loss.

As James spoke, Benjamin moved deliberately through the gathered mourners, his expression carefully composed. He approached Amelia, who stood near the front, shaking hands and offering quiet nods of gratitude to those who spoke to her.