Thursday morning was gray and overcast fitting weather for visiting the dead.
Kai and I left early, while Maya was still asleep and Aunt Maria was preparing breakfast.
We'd be back before noon, but this trip felt like it needed to happen in the quiet hours, before the world fully woke up.
"We'll go to my parents first," Kai said as he drove. "Then yours. If that's okay."
"That's perfect."
The Thornton family plot was in a private section of Rosewood Memorial Cemetery an exclusive area with manicured lawns, marble monuments, and the kind of expensive silence that came with generational wealth.
Kai parked near a wrought-iron gate and led me down a winding path lined with ancient oak trees. His hand was steady in mine, but I could feel the slight tremor in his fingers.
"I haven't been here since the funeral," he admitted. "My mother's funeral, I mean. I couldn't come after my father died. It felt too… raw."
"You're here now. That's what matters."
