64

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here to remember the life of Faye Ceflao."

I barely listened to the priest. My eyes were just on the sleek black casket that was ready to be lowered in the ground. Faye's picture stood beside it, her smiling face surrounded by beautiful red roses and other kinds of pretty flowers I couldn't even name.

I just stared. She was really dead. I'd gone with Vittore to see her body. Her pale skin, her chapped lips her lifeless eyes. I'd seen it all and yet, my mind refused to believe she was gone.

I could still hear her laugh in the wind, smell her perfume and even feel her warmth. She was till here. She wasn't gone. She couldn't be.

My eyes raised to Vittore. his eyes were dull, his gaze closed off as he watched on. His hands were held lifelessly at his sides. He hadn't said a word. Not since last week when we found out she was dead. His last words still rung through my head like a broken record.