20
Elle
Six Months later
I’m wearing black.
Again.
Which makes sense. Again. After all, today marks my second funeral in six months.
I grip a little card with my father’s picture on it. Looking down, I stare at the words along the top.
In loving memory of Declan Cynder.
I’ve another card just like this one back on my dresser. Only that version reads Raelyn Cynder and is dated three months ago. My dresser also holds a wedding invitation (of sorts). It’s a hand-written Post-It that Dad left on my computer. On it, my father wrote the date we’d all meet at the court house for his second marriage. Marchesa and Declan tied the knot one month after Mom died.
And now, two months after that second wedding, my father is dead. The coroner said Dad’s heart just gave out.
That sounds about ri
