ANTONIO POV

The morning of the funeral arrived grey and overcast, the sky carrying the particular heaviness that sometimes seemed to know when it was appropriate to withhold the sun.

I stood at the mirror longer than usual, adjusting my tie twice, smoothing the lapels of a black suit I hadn't worn since my father's funeral years ago. That occasion had carried its own complicated grief, mourning a man who had caused more damage than he'd repaired, and yet something about burying a person regardless of what they'd done always demanded a certain solemnity from those left standing.

Today carried twice that weight.

Amy emerged from her room looking composed...