Stevie was curled up on the couch, barefoot, wearing a loose black sweater that swallowed her frame. Her journal rested open on her lap, a pen loosely between her fingers. She had just jotted down a line:
"The silence we never asked for is the loudest thing in the room."
It wasn't quite a lyric yet, but it was something.
Her assistant, Karen, stepped into the room softly, her eyes wet and face pale. Stevie looked up and immediately knew something was wrong.
"You're not going to like this," Karen said quietly.
Stevie's heart skipped. "What is it?"
Karen hesitated, then said, "Dan just called."
Stevie stared at her. "So? What did he—"
Karen let a few tears slip down her cheeks.
Stevie's whole body tensed. "No... no. He told us to wait. He told us she was going to get better. Karen, he promised—"
Karen walked over and wrapped her arms around Stevie, who began shaking. "I'm sorry," Karen whispered. "It happened. She's gone."
Stevie screamed—a raw, open-throated, No—and pulled away. "I need to call John. He must be a wreck."
Karen nodded solemnly and sat down beside her as Stevie grabbed her phone. But the moment she dialed, her breath hitched. The tone was different.
"That's... that's a UK tone," she said, her voice trembling. "I've called Mick in England before. That's the same damn sound."
The line clicked, and John answered, his voice low. "Hello?"
Stevie's grief twisted into fury. "Are you in England?!"
John sighed. That sigh was all she needed.
"JOHN!" Stevie shouted. "It's not FAIR! Dan told us to wait! He told me to wait! But YOU got to go?!"
She hung up before he could reply, hurling the phone at the wall with another guttural scream.
Karen jumped but didn't flinch as Stevie buried her face in her hands, crying. "It's not fair, Karen," Stevie sobbed. "He let John be there but made me stay away."
Karen gently reached for her own phone. "Maybe there's a logical explanation," she said, dialing Dan.
The moment Dan answered, Stevie grabbed the phone from her. "How could you let him go and not me?! It's not fair—Christine must be rolling in her grave—"
She stopped cold. "She's not even buried yet."
"Stevie, calm down—" Dan said.
"Don't tell me to calm down!"
"Just hear me out for two seconds!"
Stevie grit her teeth. "Fine."
Dan took a breath. "I didn't just let John come. I told him to wait, just like I told you. But he said 'F*** it, I'm coming anyway'—and then just showed up. I didn't approve it. I didn't even know until he texted me from Heathrow."
Stevie slumped, tears spilling again. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's okay," Dan said gently. "I know this hurts."
They hung up, and Karen gave her a soft smile. "See? Logical explanation."
Stevie nodded, exhausted. "Why didn't I think of that?"
Karen chuckled, then bent to retrieve Stevie's phone. "Surprisingly not broken. You might wanna call John back."
Stevie took the phone and redialed. John picked up almost instantly.
"I'm sorry," Stevie said. "Dan explained. I—I just didn't think."
"It's okay," John replied. "You really didn't want to be here, trust me. Dan was smart telling you to wait. Even if it hurt."
"That bad?" Stevie whispered.
John was quiet a beat. "It's better if you don't know."
Stevie nodded, despite herself. "She's not suffering anymore. That's what matters."
"Exactly," John said softly. "Now go rest, yeah?"
He paused, then added with dry humor, "I'm assuming I'm on speaker. Karen, make her some tea. I think she could use it."
Karen grinned. "John's not wrong."
After they hung up, she added, "I did just get that new order of Fire Bombs from Kelly. I could make you tea—we could get changed, go to the study, light the fire..."
Stevie exhaled. "Yes. That. I need that."
Karen nodded. "Perfect."
Stevie headed upstairs to get changed, while Karen went to prepare tea. She brewed a rich herbal blend and set both mugs on the hallway table before ducking into her own room. She grabbed a soft pair of pajamas and slipped them on, then pocketed a lavender fire bomb and headed to the study.
Stevie wasn't there yet.
Karen placed the mugs on the coffee table, then lit the fire and tossed in the bomb. Within seconds, the room filled with the soothing scent of lavender and vanilla.
Moments later, Stevie entered.
She took a deep breath of the calming aroma and sat on the couch beside Karen.
Karen handed her a mug. "Sip. Breathe."
They sat in silence, speaking softly for a while, until the fire crackled low and Stevie yawned.
"I think I'll go to bed," she said quietly.
Karen nodded. "Goodnight. I'll stay here a bit longer—let the fire die down."
Stevie paused at the doorway. "You know... just crash on the couch. It's not an issue."
Karen smiled gently. "Thanks. I think I will."
They said their goodnights, and soon, Karen was tucked under a blanket on the couch, the firelight flickering across the walls.
The next morning...
Stevie came down slowly, her eyes still red, and found Karen already sipping coffee, curled up in the same spot.
"Morning," Karen said softly.
Stevie gave a faint smile. "Barely."
They were both quiet, still aching from the day before, when Karen's phone buzzed.
It was Lori.
Karen answered and immediately put it on speaker. "Hey."
"I just heard," Lori's voice came through gently. "About Christine. I'm so sorry."
Stevie closed her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks, Lori."
"I know how close you all were," Lori continued. "Are you okay?"
"No," Stevie said honestly. "But... we're holding together. Barely."
"I wish I could be there," Lori said.
Karen smiled faintly. "You being on the phone helps more than you know."
They talked quietly for a while, sharing memories and soft words, until eventually they said goodbye.
As the call ended, the study fell quiet again. The fire had long gone cold, but the warmth lingered in small ways—the kind of warmth only friendship, loss, and long memories could leave behind.
And though the day ahead would still be hard, they weren't facing it alone.
