I stepped out of the cemetery, feeling like a stranger in my own skin. Just moments ago, I had laid my mother to rest, and the weight of that finality left me questioning everything.
What comes next? Can I really return to my apartment and act as though nothing has changed? Won't every familiar corner remind me of her absence? How on earth am I supposed to move forward from this loss and navigate my daily life?
"Arabella?"
I halted, turning to face my brother. "What?" I replied, my voice tinged with exhaustion. "If you're here to ask for money—"
"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. Honestly, Matthew looked worse than I felt. His eyes were swollen and red from the tears he had shed since last night, continuing through our mother's burial. I knew he was in a far more fragile state tha
