I walked slowly beside my parents as we followed my brother’s casket down the aisle of the church. The service had been short and the gathering small. As I walked, it felt as though all eyes were on me, and I hugged Alessia to my chest, thankful she was blissfully asleep.
I was numb inside and out. I shivered as I felt the air from the open door. I knew Nonna Rosa thought I was suffering from postpartum since the baby’s birth, but I knew it was a broken heart.
As the graveside service came to an end, I found it hard to pull myself away. “It’s time to leave.” Mama’s harsh tone jolted me from my thoughts. “You’ve had your time, and Ms. Rosa is looking to leave.”
“She can wait.”
“Elenora,” she hissed, turning sideways to hide her words from those around us, “watch your tone with me or I’l
