Chapter 187

Steve’s smile froze. He looked at me, startled. "Why are you asking about that?"

"I just want to visit," I said.

He studied me, a mix of confusion and concern in his eyes. I didn't explain that Jace had been involved in Desmond's death. I had no idea if Steve knew; if he did, he would have cut Jace off long ago.

"Did something happen?" Steve asked, his voice laced with worry.

I didn't answer directly. "Just take me there."

Seeing my reluctance to explain, Steve sighed and nodded. He agreed to take me to Desmond's grave, though his wariness was evident.

At the cemetery, we found Desmond's parents standing by his grave. Even from a distance, his mother's heartbreaking sobs, punctuated by angry curses, were audible. I couldn't discern her target, but I suspected Tanya.

Approaching them felt inappropriate, so Steve and I waited until they left. Desmond's father had his arm around his frail wife as they walked past. They looked pale, utterly broken. Her quiet sobs hit me like a physical blow. They didn't notice us—their world seemed to have crumbled, leaving only their grief.

Steve watched them go and sighed. "Desmond left them to suffer so much."

His words stung. "Don't blame Desmond," I retorted. How could anyone believe Desmond wanted this for his parents? He hadn't chosen to die; he'd been crushed by betrayal, by the weight of it all. That's what led to the accident.

"Hm?" Steve looked at me, puzzled.

I didn't explain. Instead, I clutched the flowers and walked toward Desmond's grave. The picture on his tombstone showed him smiling—bright, carefree, the kind of smile that illuminated everything around him. But behind that smile had been a pain no one should bear; the kind of betrayal that shatters a person. I could almost visualize the moment when his world imploded.

"Desmond, how you doing over there?" Steve called out. "Got any pool tables where you're at? Still getting a few games in?"

I remained silent, unable to find the right words. Nothing I could say felt adequate. Steve rambled a bit, glancing at me when he noticed my silence. To fill the void, he turned back to the tombstone and said, "Before you left, you kept asking when you could come to Keira and Jace's wedding. Well, no need to ask anymore. It's not happening. They broke up."

Silence settled again. I stood staring at Desmond's grave, feeling the weight of everything. As I looked, something strange happened. The bright smile in Desmond's photo seemed to shift—first into sadness, then anger. A deep, burning anger that felt almost palpable.

My heart clenched, and before I knew it, I reached out toward the grave. Steve grabbed my arm, his voice filled with concern. "Keira, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are you dizzy?"

"Huh?" I turned to him.

"Your face went pale," he said. "You swayed, like you were about to pass out."

Had I? I hadn't noticed.

Seeing my distress, Steve decided it was time to go. As we left, he said, "You probably shouldn't come to places like this too often. Cemeteries have a heavy vibe, and it could really mess with your head, especially if you're already feeling off."

I said nothing. Whether something was messing with my head, I wasn't sure. But I definitely felt off. On the way home, I texted Ron, letting him know I'd be taking the rest of the day off.

I slept longer than usual, and by the time I woke, the sky was dark. Still half-asleep, I heard a faint sound by the door. Groggy, I got up and opened it. To my surprise, someone was standing there.