ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ - ꜰᴏᴜʀ

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TWO WEEKS LATER:𝗧he wind blew the front of his hair in front of his sunglasses as he grimaced into the sunlight and watched them lower the casket into the ground

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TWO WEEKS LATER:
𝗧he wind blew the front of his hair in front of his sunglasses as he grimaced into the sunlight and watched them lower the casket into the ground. He and his father stood a good fifty yards away – they didn't want anyone to know they attended the funeral.

His arms were crossed hard across his chest, crinkling the firm press of his black suit. He dressed the part, even down to the suit jacket. Hell, he even put a tie on. His black sunglasses rested on the edge of his nose as he leaned against a tree, watching the handful of remorseful people listen to the priest talk his gospel shit.

The last thing that body needs is praise.

Or a gateway into heaven.

"Have you had enough?" his father asked beside him.

"Almost."

"I don't know why you wanted to come," Emmet rolled his eyes.

"Meh," he shrugged his shoulders, "I just wanted to see where he was buried."

"For her, I assume?"

Rueben nodded shortly, looking off into the green field. Everything he ever did lately was for her. Even if it was something small. A part of him hoped that if he did enough, she might finally wake up – grace them with her presence.

He missed her more with each passing day.

Every time he held her hand, it was like she was there, but not.

He turned his head back to the clutter of people and watched how most of them started to disperse and head their separate ways. None of them look particularly sad – they were probably just his colleagues.

Two weeks ago, when his body arrived at the police station, the first thing he felt was anger. Hot, red, pounding anger. That was solely because his death felt unfair. He didn't deserve to leave this world so easily – he deserved to pay for what he did to Rayne.

Carson Miller.

His body had appeared to have been shot multiple times and was dismantled after death had already occurred. He was naked, but his extremities had been cut off; they found the appendage inside his stomach, as that was also dissected. His face itself was so disfigured, it was hard to tell who he truly was. The entire scene was extremely gruesome.

But the strangest part was that no one saw who left his body there.

One minute, the path was clear.

And the next, there he laid for all to watch.

Once the anger washed over his body, sadness entered. Not for him, of course, but for Rayne. They all knew that Carson was behind her accident and now that he was dead, she would get no justice for what he did to her. Even if she admitted it and told the cops that he was at fault, what could they do?

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