The Soares family, what remained of it, stood beneath the giant oak tree to receive condolences from those who knew Autumn well, and those who came out of courtesy and obligation. After a while, the friends and acquaintances peeled away first, saying their goodbyes and went about their separate ways, and then on with their lives. A short time later - not so short that could be perceived as disrespectful, just long enough that one could avoid the scrutiny of insincerity - the extended families began to say their farewells too. Leaving behind only Autumn’s closest of kins, who stayed and watched the portal closed more and more by each lift of the shovel, as the graveside workers evened out the dirt and laid over new grass.

“Good-bye, sister.” Winter whispered, surprised at herself for not crying on this dreary day, surprised that her limps carried on walking and hugging, and at her lips for saying “thank you” instead of wailing about how ridiculously unfair the world was, how unfair God was, that her sister of all people should be the one to have her life cut short. Winter closed her eyes and breathed in the cold air, bracing herself for whatever to come next.

But nothing came next. Winter opened her eyes, blinked, and realized that after the onslaught of life-altering events in the last three months, she was now left with nothing to do. How desperately she wanted… something. Something that made sense of what had happened. Perhaps then, it would be better to just let this chapter end, even if it’s without any resolution, without any better comprehension of why.

She knows that she will remember her life in two parts: one with her sister in it, and one that she was alone and will forever be alone.

Winter re-wrapped her scarf around her neck and buttoned the top button of her coat. The day was short and the sun took away any warmth as soon as it set. Winter looked up to the sky and saw a storm cloud blooming over the San Juan Hills. They had better get going.

Winter walked over to Michael, Autumn’s husband, and patted his back. “I wish Elena could have been here, she would have wanted to be here.”

Michael nodded, still staring at the new grass turf on top of the closed grave. Winter sat next to him, and looked around the misty hill. All their relatives’ cars had gone. Leaving only Michael’s SUV, her own small coupe, and the funeral director’s black Escalade.

Michael sighed audibly, and Winter brought her attention back to him. Rubbing her hands together to undo the shiver that sent chills through her body.

“I’m going visit Elena after, do you want to come?” She asked.

Michael closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. “I can’t take anymore of this today. And it’s not me that Elena wants to see.”

“Of course she does. You’re her dad, her rock, especially now more than ever.” Winter understood what Michael meant, and she wanted to remind him that Elena still loved him.

He drew in a deep breath only to sigh again. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right. Win, why do I feel like I am one hundred years old?”

“I think we all feel that way today, we may feel like that for a long time.” She said as she patted his back some more. Noticing how much weight he had lost, it’s almost as if he shared his wife’s cancer and his body diminished alongside hers. His temples were now more silver than black, he hadn’t shaved in days, his stubbles were mostly white as well. The lines on his face now looked permanent, and he looked properly old for being just over forty.

“Autumn would want you to go on living, right? You have to be strong for her. Strong for how she remembered you to be.” Winter said.

Michael sighed another long, deep exhale. “I don’t know what she would have wanted. I felt she was lost to me, and not only because of the disease. I knew the disease was taking her away from me, but there was also something else.”

“Like what?” Winter asked gently. She knew Michael probably wanted to vent, needed to vent, about how life was unfair and how Autumn had died too young. That was all true of course, and Winter wanted to be there for him, but she also desperately wanted to go home to be alone with her own grief. For the last three months, which felt so long because of the Autumn’s disease, yet so short because of that was all the time God allowed Autumn to be with her family after receiving the diagnosis, had been hard on everyone but especially on Winter, who was Autumn’s primary caretaker. It had been Winter to was by Autumn’s side when Michael was too deep in his own grief and Elena was no where to be found.

During this time, Winter made herself to become the strong one because she understood that they, meaning Michael, Elena, and herself, couldn’t all fall apart at the same time. They would take turns, and she would be the strong one for everybody for now. And she was, still is, the strong one. And now Autumn was gone, Winter wanted to stop being strong, she wanted let exhaustion win, and sleep until she forgot about the pain. She felt like one hundred years plus one. Maybe Michael could finally pick up the baton and take over, and even if he never does, they were at least already at the finish line.

She looked up again to the sky. The storm cloud looked quite a bit closer. And the wind blew with more insistence.

“Michael…”

Michael was oblivious to her thoughts. He shook his head again, as if doing so would unwind time, open up the portal and make Earth spew out an alive and healthy Autumn.

He sighed once more, a plume of steam rose from his lips, “She was just constantly lost in her own thoughts. I couldn’t reach her. Even if she was right there with me, I couldn’t reach her. Not like I used to. We were so close, Winter. You knew this. We were so in love, right from the beginning. Our love was special…for twenty years it was special, and that all changed after the diagnosis. I thought she would want to make the best of it, the time she had left, I mean. That’s what I tried to make it for her. But she left me alone.”

“Maybe that’s how she deals with pain.” Winter bit her tongue. She could say more, but what was the point? It was better for Michael to go on and believing that he was the best husband that he could have been. Winter knew that her late sister’s marriage was a happy one… mostly happy anyway. Michael was handsome, successful, and so intelligent, but he was still like most men who would to be shocked if and when they ever hear their wives verbalize dissatisfaction or disappointment. In other words, he had no clue what was really going on in Autumn’s world, besides the layer that they shared on a day to day basis. Unfortunately for Michael, the lack of confrontation did not suggest happiness, and in Autumn’s marriage, it was just misdirected energy.

Michael shook his head again. But he finally seemed to pull his eyes off of Autumn’s tombstone and looked at Winter.

“Thank you, Win. For everything. You were… everything to us. I never knew what to do. I wish I had been more help, if I weren’t so depressed over what was happening to her, and to Elena… maybe Autumn would still be here.” Michael’s eyes started to water.

“Don’t say that. You were her rock. You were always her rock.” Winter retrieved a tissue and handed to Michael. “And Elena still needs you.”

Michael nodded and wiped his eyes. Between soft sniffles he said, “You’re right. I’ll go with you to Willowbrook. We’ll go together. We’re still a family”

Winter smiled. “Yes, of course we are.” She turned her head to look around. Everyone else had gone. It was just their cars left in the lot. Even the funeral director had gone home. Might as well. Funeral was an obligatory business. “I need to use the lady’s room.” She said to Michael, “I’ll meet you back by the parking lot.”

Winter pulled her coat tight as she made her way over to the restroom facilities on the other side of the hill. The first drop of rain landed on her nose, and then on her eyelashes. “Look, Autumn, even the sky is crying for you.”

It was then she heard a car coming up behind her. She turned around to look, expecting to see Michael driving up in his white X5, saving her from the rain. Instead, it was the funeral director’s black Escalade. Winter stopped at her tracks in anticipation to receive more condolences or perhaps a reminder about the bill. Except the SUV did not stop. It simply slowed down as it approached her. It was only when it drove next to her that she realized her mistake in thinking it belonged to the funeral director. Winter stared at this SUV’s windows but they were darkly tinted, and she could not see who was inside. But her skin prickled with goosebumps as she knew that whoever was inside was watching her, inspecting her.

More raindrops fell on her hair and mixed with the cold sweat beads on her forehead. Winter’s heart pounded, she was sure that someone was about to open the car door and grab her. She thought about running, but her feet were frozen to the ground. She turned to look behind her, she could make out that Michael was still sitting by Autumn’s graveside, oblivious to this intrusion. Even if she screamed, it would take too long before Michael could reach her. She instinctively took a step back, her gaze returned to the tinted driver side window.

And suddenly the SUV’s engine roared. It startled her, and Winter swallowed, she counted inside, three, two, one, and she turned and run in the direction of the main office building which was only fifty feet away. But she needn’t have. The SUV did not chase her, but instead it picked up speed and drove the opposite direction, around the bend and down the hill, without stopping at any stopping signs.

Winter reached the office building, her arms overstretched as she leaped over front steps and pulled on the door. It was locked. She knocked frantically on the glass pane, turning to look left and right to make sure the black Escalade was not behind her. She looked through glass when no one answered. The office looked closed. With shaking hands, she took out her phone and called Michael.

“Hey Win, where are you?” Michael’s calm voice came through after the second ring.

Winter breathed heavily, her heart still caught in her throat.

“Win? Are you okay?”

“No… no… I’m not.” Winter began to cry. Her tears had not dried up after all.

“Oh I’m sorry, hon. I’m sorry I’ve been to selfish… I… where are you? I’ll come over to pick you up.”

Winter nodded vigorously until she realized Michael couldn’t see her. “Yes, please. I’m at the office building, by the front door.”

“Okay I’ll be there in a sec.”

By the time Michael pulled up to the front of the building. Winter had mostly calmed down. She walked over and got inside his car.

“Could you drive me to where we parked? I’ll take my own car and we’ll meet at Willowbrook.” She said.

“Are you sure? I could drop you back here after we visited.” Michael offered.

“It’s okay, I don’t want to be back here today. It will make me sad.” It wasn’t a total lie.

Michael nodded okay. He did not want to press her. Winter had obviously had a panic attack and he felt guilty. They drove in silence for the two minutes that it took to get to where they parked.

“Did you see the black Escalade that was parked next to us earlier?”

“Right here?”

“Yeah, on my left.” She pointed to her coupe.

“Um, no, I don’t suppose I did. Is something the matter? Who drove that car?”

“I don’t know. I… never mind.”

Michael reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot.” He tried to be kind.

“Yeah, I… I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.” And she made an effort to smile.

Winter got inside her small coupe and locked the door as soon as she got in. She felt her hands were shaking, and wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, the rain, or the black Escalade. She pulled up GPS guidance to Willowbrook Manor, the full time care facility that her adult niece Elena now lives. And then shut it off and decided to just follow Michael’s car. She kept an eye on who was behind her, making sure that they were not being followed, but no matter how many times she confirmed that the black Escalade wasn’t trailing behind, she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched.