"Andrew," she called.
A man in a dark suit stepped forward from the tree line where he'd been waiting. I hadn't even noticed him. He carried a shovel and began covering the box with earth, each thud of dirt making the separation more final.
"In burying Camille Lewis beside my daughter," Victoria said, watching the box disappear, "we honor both lives cut short by betrayal. Sophia by her fiancé's family. You by those who should have treasured you."
When the last of the dirt was patted smooth and leaves scattered over it to hide the freshly turned earth, Victoria stood tall beside me. Together, we looked down at where pieces of my past now lay buried.
"Now Camille Lewis can truly rest," Victoria said, "and Camille Kane can rise without anything holding her back."
I expected to feel grief
