Eleven days after, Avalon National Cemetery, 2:14 PM.
A gray, winter sky hung heavy over Avalon. It seemed as though the world, silent and still, was torn between mourning and observing.
This was supposed to be a place of rest. Instead, it felt like the aftermath of a battlefield.
The long paths filled with silent people, but a smaller group stood by the grave: Margaret, the children, senior staff, the Honor Guard, and Elias, his heart heavy. Elias was fixated on the flag, the bright colors a stark contrast to the somber gray of Gregory Hoyt's casket.
Margaret placed a hand on each child's shoulder at the casket. Though she appeared strong, Elias remembered her hidden, raw grief.
He approached the podium, feeling the weight of the moment. He gripped the lectern to steady himself. He felt a slight tremor in his hands.
For a few moments, he couldn't speak. His throat had closed, and all the words he'd rehearsed scattered like startled birds.
"I watched my best friend die eleven days ago," he whispered, voice shaking.
A shift occurred in the air. The mourners were softly grieving.
"He was right there," Elias said, gesturing ahead. "The shot was so close that I felt the warmth before I understood what happened." He paused, clenching his jaw. "I've replayed that second countless times, wondering if I blinked.
He let out a breath that trembled more than he wanted it to.
"I have carried men before. Carried them off the battlefield, carried their names, carried their families' questions. Losses are inevitable when you wear the uniform. But Gregory was not meant to be lost. He was expected to survive us all."
The wind stirred the flag, and Elias looked at Margaret.
"He loved you," Elias whispered. "Beyond anything he ever admitted out loud. He told me once, not long after the election, that he wasn't certain what he had done to deserve you or the life he built with you. I hope you remember that on the days when grief tells you lies."
Her lips shook. She let a tear fall, untouched.
Elias rested his hand on the flag. The cold wood nearly winded him.
"I'm sorry, Greg," he whispered, the words escaping before he could censor them. "I'm sorry I didn't get between you and the bullet. I'm sorry that I froze for a single heartbeat when I should have moved. I'm sorry that I'm still standing here while you're lying under this flag."
The silence was sacred.
"But I swear to you," he continued, voice tightening with something deeper and darker. "I won't stop here."
He squeezed the edge of the casket once before stepping back.
Margaret instinctively embraced him, and he held her gently. She shook, holding back her emotions, when she deserved anger.
Nadia stood beside them, touching Margaret's back. She was a woman of action rather than words, but she could always steady someone when life felt unsettled.
***
The Honor Guard raised their rifles.
The first shot echoed through the cemetery, its sound followed by the pungent scent of gunpowder. Elias' muscles locked, making him wince as he tried to move before his body could react. No impressive display happened.
The second volley exploded distantly. His heart thumped, then settled erratically.
Nadia moved closer, creating a buffer against his memories.
Mournful taps echoed in the gray sky. This time, it affected Elias more than he expected.
Elias touched the casket after the flag was given to Margaret."I'll take it from here," he murmured. "Just wait for me. I'll find them."
He was met by Senator Harrow's insincere gesture. Elias didn't take it. He didn't even attempt to.
Nadia subtly blocked Elias.
"You made quite an impression," she said. "Marcus is probably losing his mind in three different rooms."
"Good," Elias responded, his voice was steady. "Let him."
"You're going to make the VP shortlist combust."
"He can deal with it."
Her eyes softened briefly, then the wind tousled her hair, giving her a more youthful appearance, reminiscent of the woman he'd known before their relationship was defined by status.
His stomach growled.
Two Honor Guards pretended not to react; they failed.
Nadia's lips curved. "Let's go home," she murmured. "The kids need you, and you need actual food."
She touched his wrist lightly, grounding him without making it obvious.
Elias didn't turn as they began walking to the motorcade, even after Harrow called.