We walk for minutes, the gentle rustle of wind the only sound between us. There are so many things I want to say, but where do I start?
Roman comes to a stop.
Opening up my palm as I extend my arm, Roman doesn’t argue and passes me the shovel.
With each mound of dirt I shift, the closer my tears threaten to break free, but I’m trying my hardest to keep them at bay. Sadie wouldn’t have wanted me to be sad. We both knew that sooner or later, it would come to this. But being the one left standing time and time again doesn’t make you feel lucky or relieved. It’s just a reminder of where you’ll eventually end up. We all die—some sooner than others.
I continue digging, the thought plaguing me until I struggle for breath.
“Don’t feel guilty. You’re allowed to live.” Roman can read my inner t
