The days after Sage's death blurred together. Time lost its rhythm, each hour heavy with grief. Taylor and I drifted through the estate like ghosts, our laughter gone, our voices hushed. Everything reminded us of him, his smile, his teasing, his warmth. Taylor cried often, her sobs raw and unrestrained. He wasn't just her cousin; he was her anchor, the one who had always been there. I tried to comfort her, but my own heart was shattered. Sage had been my friend, my tether to normal life, and now he was gone.
My mother's grief was quieter but no less devastating. I had seen her at the window, sobbing as she realized it was Sage who had been shot. She had loved him too, in her own way. He had been polite, kind, respectful, someone she trusted. His death had broken something inside her. And
