Wednesday afternoon was sombre as she and Deidre shuffled into their home following the funeral for Miley. Arwen moved to the kitchen and put the tea kettle on and watched from the corner of her eye as Deidre sat at the table, slouching over it as if the world were settled on her shoulders.
“How are you holding up?”
“It’s weird,” Deidre sadly played with salt and pepper shakers on the table. “To think I’ll never get to hear her laugh or squeal again is awful.” She looked up to Arwen, “did you know the text message she got from her brother, right before she took off her seatbelt was about Warrick? She took it off because she wanted to come hug me across the car. I know it’s why.”
“His funeral was today as well.” Arwen offered quietly.
“Weird pervert,” Deidre made a face. “The rumor on c
