Page 49 of The Other Side of Green

“Exactly. You and Jack can sort the violin, let us sort the spotlight. We won’t ever let you stand by yourself, Lyra, you are one of us.”

Lyra dipped her head, shoulders curling like wings on an angel.

I placed my hand on her arm and squeezed. “We’ve got you, Lyra.”

And I’d make sure no matter what happened, I always would.

Chapter Twelve

Lyra

Of course the rain had started to come down. At two in the morning I’d sat at my window watching droplets hammer the glass. It seemed poetic in a way that Grams would be sent off in the rain after living all her life in a burnt orange colored sundress.

She wore that dress in her casket, I’d made sure of it. Not that I’d looked in there yet, didn’t even know if I would.

She was downstairs in the front room. A trail of friends had been by, all to stop and pay their respects, while I’d hung out in the kitchen unable to look upon the shiny mahogany coffin.

Tucked with my ankles pulled close and my head on my knees, I stared at the gray sky. How the hell would I get through this? I couldn’t imagine the day being done, the pain being over, or in any way lessened.

“You okay, sis?” Luca asked from the door. He’d stayed last night and hadn’t suggested Raven stay with him. For that I could only be thankful. The string on which my sanity hung grew weaker with every passing day.

All I needed was to get dressed, move my feet, force myself forward, sing and play to make my grandmother proud and then… well then…

“Lyra?”

I shook myself out of my thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I continued to look through the window.

“Can I make you a coffee? I don’t think I’m hungry.”

“Me neither.” My stomach rolled.

“Lyra, look at me.”

I did, slowly, trying to hold it all in, pressing my lips together and hugging my legs like they were a lifebuoy.

“We will get through this. I know it’s hard.” Luca’s dark eyes shadowed with concern.

How the hell would we get through this? He didn’t even live here. I had no idea what would happen once today was over. What would happen with the house, with the small belongings that we owned? No idea where I would go or where I would call home.

“Sure.” I gave him a swift nod.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the front door rattling stopped the words within his open mouth.

“Why the fuck is this double locked?” A voice screeched up the stairs, shattering the silence the house had held the last week.

My stomach plummeted, my palms prickling with an instantaneous breakout sweat. “She has not come back today of all days?” I ground out.

Luca shifted a little, gaze too focused on an old tac oil mark on the wall.

“You didn’t?”

“Lyra, she’s her daughter. She’d regret it if she didn’t come.”

I jumped off the bed, rounding into Luca’s space, pushing him back with my hands. He could fall out into the hallway and down the stairs for all I would have cared. “She hasn’t given a shit about us, Luca, or Grams. Where has she been while we’ve been organizing and dealing with Pastor Clarke?” I used the term ‘we’ loosely but didn’t want to make it all about me. “Where the hell has she been?”

Luca had the grace to shrug. “I don’t know. I just called around some of her, uh, friends, until I found her.”

“Thanks. Great. Perfect.” I pushed him backwards out of my room and then slammed the door shut, with no plans to reopen it until the last possible moment when it was time to leave.