Jay was still at the chapel.

He sat quietly on the wooden bench where he had been sitting for hours now, his small legs dangling just above the tiled floor, his hands folded loosely on his lap. In front of him, Tracey's picture was resting on the stand near the altar, smiling at him.

Everyone had been hurt by Tracey’s death, there was no denying that but he was hurt the most because Tracey and him were always together all day. He didn't go home because the mansion had felt heavier since that day, the walls echoing with a grief that refused to settle. But Jay…it was different for him....