3
Tears streamed down Alice’s face.
She held her lips tightly together, trying not to cry.
Marnie looked pale and exhausted, almost as white as the pillow behind her.
“It isn’t a gift,” she said.
“No,” Alice said.
“Do you understand why I hate it when they say that?”
Alice nodded. She understood.
She had seen her parents’ bodies. Washed of all the blood. Their waxy skin. Looking like mannequins.
It was her decision whether to bury them or burn them. She chose cremation. They were already gone. Not in those bodies anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.
“Do you still feel that way?” Alice asked. “That you don’t want to find her body?”
Marnie hesitated. Then she shrugged.
Alice pinched her fingers against her eyes. It was too hard. What Marnie had been through was too hard.
“What do
