Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“If they knew what a prick he was,” Silas mutters under his breath. I text my dad, who tells me he’s already waiting at the doors for us.
We park and Silas climbs out, getting the umbrella out of the trunk and coming to my side once he opens it. Dad meets us near the doors of the church. Seeing the hearse parked in front is a strange sight. It’s been almost a week since Sly’s death, but the reality of it hasn’t hit me, not like it does right now.
Heads turn when we enter, and I feel Silas step closer to me, hand around the nape of my neck, always there, ready to pounce on anyone he deems a threat. But it’s not me or us they’re looking at. It’s Dad. I’m sure more than a few of them float the idea that it may have been Dad to pull the trigger of the gun that killed Sly. I squeeze Dad’s hand and he gives me a wink. He knows and I don’t think he cares.
The coffin is at the front of the church. Open casket. Will we all be expected to walk by to pay our respects? Given the way he died, I wasn’t expecting that, but Silas doesn’t miss a step as we walk up the aisle, Dad behind us, following the procession of people. There must be several hundred in the church.
When we get to the front, the procession slows, and I turn to find Mira sitting in the front pew dressed in a vintage Chanel suit, her legs crossed, one foot rocking back and forth. Her heels must be four-inch-high stilettos and a small black hat with lace netting is perched at an angle on her head, the intricate pattern of the lace hiding her eyes. When she turns her head to look at us, I see her perfectly applied makeup, the bright red lips. She looks glamorous and stunning, actually—like no wife should look at her husband’s funeral, but then again, I don’t think anyone knew the dynamics of their marriage or what happened behind closed doors.
Ethan’s gaze falls on Silas and when it does, I see how his eyes narrow. He has a black eye and a bruise along his jaw. Mira exchanges hurried words with him, and he steps out of the aisle to talk to one of the men, who seems to be directing things.
Dad steps forward, blocking my view of Ethan. It’s our turn to walk up to the casket.
Silas is first. I watch the side of his face as he looks inside but he is unreadable. He shows no emotion, and I wonder what he feels to see this man, who was his father no matter how he felt about him, lying in a casket. The church goes silent as if everyone is collectively holding their breath. I’m sure the gossips will begin spinning all kinds of tales. The fact that he was Sly’s illegitimate son was widely known even if it wasn’t ever talked about.
Silas looks at me, eyebrows raised, and I nod and take my turn to look in on Sly for the last time. I’m not sure what I expect to see. He’d been shot between the eyes, but he just looks like he’s sleeping. Paler than usual maybe but the bullet hole is expertly hidden. If he wasn’t in a casket, I wouldn’t believe he was dead.
I wondered what was going on in Silas’s head at seeing Sly dead, but now, as I look down at him for the last time, I wonder if it’s wrong that I don’t feel anything for the man. He spent his life doing so much damage, causing so much harm to so many people, that I’m glad I don’t feel anything. Not even hate.
My dad clears his throat, and we move on, Dad pausing for a minute at the coffin, his face hard.
An attendant guides us back down an aisle to an open pew. Dad and I slide in but before Silas can follow, that man Ethan was talking to holds out an arm to block Silas’s path.
“Sir, Mrs. Fox asks that you leave the ceremony.”
“Excuse me?”
He clears his throat. “It’s a delicate time. I’m sure you understand.”
Silas opens his mouth to protest but the heavy doors of the church clang closed, and organ music signals the service is about to begin. Pews creak as people begin to rise to their feet.
“Sir. We’ll need you to come this way,” the man says more urgently.
Silas looks like he’s about to put up a fight, but then he’s distracted by a notification on his phone, and what he sees has him change his mind.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he says and walks down the side aisle and out of the church. I watch him go, as do many others, and I’m glad I can’t hear what they’re saying over the music. I silence my phone and don’t meet anyone’s eyes.