Neither of them knew how long they sat there.
Time had quieted itself. The only sound was the gentle tap of rain against trees, the soft breath of wind moving between gravestones, and the unspoken ache stretching between them.
At some point, the drizzle had faded. Clouds had started to part, reluctantly, like they weren't quite ready to let go of the grief either.
The sun tried pushing through, throwing silver light over the cemetery lawn. A few birds started to stir in the trees again.
Alex finally shifted beside her. "You ready to head home?"
Ava didn't move.
Her fingers were still curled lightly over her knee, the fabric of her gloves damp from the grass and mist. Her lips parted slightly, but the words were delayed.
"I don't want to see her yet," she admitted softly.
Alex turned his head. "Pearl?"
She nodded. "Not like this. Not with… this still on me."
"She'd understand."
