Upside-down Christmas

Chapter Three: The Funeral Without Bodies

The snow had stopped by morning, leaving the streets of Bellridge glazed in fragile ice that reflected the pale winter sun. The world looked calm, almost serene. But for Nina, the streets might as well have been on fire.

The day of the memorial arrived. A small crowd gathered at the town hall, friends, neighbors, teachers—all with heavy faces and quiet words. The official memorial service was organized for all the passengers and crew, but Nina knew something important was missing: her parents. Their absence was a hollow weight in the room, a question mark hanging above every speech.

Her legs trembled as she walked up the aisle, clutching the bouquet of white lilies she had picked herself. Lila followed closely, her hand brushing Nina’s back with gentle reassurance. Even the warm pressure of her best friend’s presence wasn’t enough to stop the ache in her chest.

“Sweetheart, hold your head up,” whispered her aunt beside her. “We’re all here for you.”

Nina nodded, forcing herself to inhale. But the air felt heavy, as if even breathing required effort. She scanned the crowd, her gaze briefly catching Alex’s. He gave her a faint, distracted smile before looking away. That small, fleeting gesture made her stomach twist in ways she didn’t fully understand.

The service began. People gave speeches about lives lost, memories shared, moments that would never be forgotten. Nina listened, letting the words wash over her in waves. Some brought tears, others a hollow numbness. She felt a pang when the speaker mentioned parents who were pillars of the community, successful business people who had always been kind. Her own parents had been exactly that—warm, loving, protective. But they were gone now.

Gone.

She had to remind herself constantly that she had no proof they would ever return. The plane had vanished. No bodies. No messages. No traces. And in that absence, her imagination ran wild. Every scenario played in her head: every accident, every mistake, every possibility where she might never see them again.

Lila squeezed her hand, pulling her from the spiral of fear. “Hey, look at me,” she said gently. “They’d want you to breathe, even now.”

Nina let her eyes fall on her best friend’s face. Lila’s bright, loyal gaze gave her a moment of warmth, a thread to cling to. But something in that gaze—something faint, almost imperceptible—made her hesitate. For a fraction of a second, Nina felt a twinge of unease she couldn’t name. She shook it off. Maybe it was grief. Maybe it was exhaustion.

After the service, the small group of students and friends walked Nina back to her home. The house felt empty, colder than usual. Alex lingered in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, offering nothing more than polite smiles and quiet words. He didn’t hug her. He didn’t sit with her. Yet he stayed close enough that she couldn’t ignore him.

Lila took her usual place by Nina’s side, helping her settle into the living room. “Do you want some cocoa?” she asked softly.

Nina nodded. “Yes, please.”

The two sat in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated only by the soft sound of the mug against the wooden table. Nina’s thoughts wandered, circling the same question over and over: Where are my parents? Are they alive? Are they even looking for me?

When evening fell, Nina reluctantly sent a text to Alex:

Thanks for being here today.

The reply came almost immediately.

No problem. You’re… handling this well.

It wasn’t comforting. Something in the way she said it felt… distant, off. She frowned, setting the phone aside.

And that’s when things started to change, subtly at first.

The next morning at school, whispers followed her down the hall. Not about her grief, not about the accident—but about something else. A friend she had trusted stopped smiling when she approached. Another looked at her with a strange mixture of pity and amusement. Small notes were slipped into her locker: careless messages that hinted at secrets she didn’t understand.

Her heart thudded. What is happening?

At lunch, Alex joined her table, but something in his behavior was different. His usual easy charm was gone. He leaned closer to Lila, laughing at jokes that Nina didn’t understand. His hand brushed hers once, but she felt no warmth. There was something calculated, hidden, beneath his actions.

And then came the first incident.

During a group assignment, Nina was

accused of cheating. A classmate she trusted—one she considered neutral—claimed she had copied answers from someone else’s paper. She tried to protest, to explain, but the teacher’s eyes narrowed, the whispers grew louder, and even Alex remained silent.

Something in Nina shifted then. This isn’t random.

She hadn’t realized it yet, but the first seeds of betrayal had already been planted. The people she trusted most—those who promised loyalty and closeness—were already weaving plans she couldn’t see.

That night, sitting alone by the window with snow settling outside, Nina felt a mixture of fear, anger, and disbelief. She looked at her reflection in the glass, holding a mug of cocoa to her lips.

“Who can I trust?” she whispered to herself.

The winter night seemed to answer with silence. But somewhere deep in that silence, the first threads of future confrontation were already being tied, waiting for Nina to notice them.

Because she was about to realize that the world she thought safe and familiar had changed forever. And the people closest to her—her best friend, her boyfriend—might be the ones responsible.

For now, though, she sat quietly, letting the snow fall, letting the grief settle, letting the tension build like a storm she couldn’t yet see.