It was a perfect day for a funeral, Vickie thought dully, eyes pinned on the shiny mahogany casket wreathed with flowers of different kinds—flowers from people Maddie had considered family.
Beside her was Emilio, not bothering to hide his tears. Somewhere far to her left was Gio, who at least had the decency to look grief-stricken. Their mother was in full-blown tears, being comforted by her husband, who looked like he was about to burst into tears himself.
Manila was present, too—statue-like.
The wind slapped her across the face, biting hard enough to draw water from her eyes, but it didn't; so she watched everyone through dried-out eyes, wondering if their pain matched hers. If it could ever match hers.
They were at the graveside now, having just left the church, and as the preach
