Marked

Chapter Eleven

The next few days were a blur. For the most part, she kept busy. She had even started to not mind the security detail Copenhagen had placed on her at all times. It was easier to stop herself from crying when there were other people around, so she shouldered their presence with as much dignity as she could.

"For your protection, Rachel." Copenhagen had said.

"She needed protection that night." Ruth snapped at him. "And you failed to give it. Now you want her babysat at all times?"

"Ruth," Copenhagen drew a hand over his face. "I know Rachel didn't do anything wrong here but as it is, my people are already on my case about having you two onboard—the president's daughter and former wife." He gestured to each of them.

"The only reason they tolerate you is because you hold the promise of finding a cure, otherwise, they wouldn't trust you enough to be here. And now to top it all off, two kids are dead and the only witness to what happened is Rachel. You have to understand that your ties to Nicolas will always make you untrustworthy in the eyes of anyone who fears him."

"So you've got henchmen following me around to appease the suspicions of your people, not to keep me safe." Rachel shook her head. "Come on, mom, I think we've both heard enough."

At least Ruth had been acting more like a mother than ever before. It was nice to see that despite their challenges, her motherly instincts were still buried somewhere deep inside.

Tonight was the funeral and she was currently busy preparing food that would probably go uneaten. Who felt like eating during a funeral, anyway?

When the cooking was done, she told Petra she had to go change for the funeral and left a little early. Two officers waited outside the kitchen, looking bored. Even if they were only there to babysit her, at least she could rest easy knowing that if Nicolas sent anyone else after her, they'd have to go through those two first.

They waited just outside her cabin as she dressed. In the spirit of remembering Simone for who she was, Rachel smeared a bit of lipstick on her mouth and pinched her cheeks for some color.

"We're sad but we're not dead." Simone would have said. "Someone's gotta add a little life to the room."

On her way to the ballroom where the funeral would be taking place, she hesitated as she passed Hector's door. She debated knocking on it but after a few moment's consideration, she decided against it.

She missed him but what would she say to him anyway? She'd been avoiding him like E-91 since everything had gone down, and she knew they'd had a lot of issues to sort through. He was a mountain of feelings she was not ready to climb just yet, not with Simone's death so recent. So with that thought, she turned her back on his room and went out onto the deck.

It was still difficult to see the ramp that lead to the aircraft ship and not go over all the things she wished she could have done differently. She could have gone back with Simone to get the bottle of liquor and Gabe wouldn't have had the chance to attack her just yet. She could have shot Gabe sooner, preventing him from pushing her best friend overboard and killing her.

She could have, should have, would have but the truth was, she hadn't and there was nothing she could do about it now.

The room was quiet with mourning. Rachel spotted Simone's family, gathered around an urn resting on a table with a white cloth draped over it and littered with candles. The ship didn't have the resources to preserve bodies long enough to have an open casket service so Simone had been cremated and all that was left of her was a pile of ashes.

Rachel felt a little sick looking at the urn so instead she turned her attention to the small gathering of people, hoping to find a familiar face among it. She quickly spotted Juan and was about to go to him when Hector came up behind him, patting him on the shoulder while he handed his brother a glass of water.

Hector was wearing a suit that somehow made him look more handsome, his hair neatly combed back. She willed her eyes not to linger on him for too long and instead walked over to the refreshments table, finding that she desperately needed some water.

Her two shadows took a break and lingered by the back wall, giving her just enough space and privacy to succumb to the sudden wave of emotions overcoming her.

She reached the table and gripped the side to steady herself, suddenly feeling dizzy. Simone was gone. Her best friend, the girl she had grown up with, her partner in crime, her sister in every way that mattered was gone.

Dead.

Simone was never coming back.

Already the sound of her voice was beginning to fade from her memory. The curve of her smile was but a blur in her mind's eye.

But Simone wouldn't want her to be sad for the rest of her life. She owed it to her best friend to live life to the best of her ability—to live life as Simone would have: happy, wild, unapologetic. That feeling—that mission—would allow Simone to live inside her forever.

Blinking away the tears, she turned to offer her condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. She'd avoided them long enough and any longer would make it look like she didn't care.

Reaching the table with the urn, Rachel gently skimmed her fingertips over a picture of Simone. It was a shot they'd take of her back at the bunker when she'd been assigned to kitchen duty. Her smile was dazzling, forever the optimist.

Mrs. Johnson wiped tears away from her eyes as Rachel reached her. They shared a look, some unspoken sorrow passing between them and the next moment they were both clinging to each other. Silent tears streamed down Rachel's face, shaking her body while Mrs. Johnson's sweet lavender scent overwhelmed her senses, reminding her so deeply of Simone's familiar, vanilla smell. Mr. Johnson and Chantel stood solemnly behind them, faces cast down, their eyes full of tears of their own.

"You were with her in her last moments. Tell me, did my baby suffer?" Mrs. Johnson asked as she pulled away, holding Rachel by the shoulders.

Rachel looked into her eyes and couldn't bring herself to tell her the truth: that Simone had been in terrible emotional pain before she died—that she'd died feeling the sting of Gabe's betrayal. That it was her fault Simone was dead.

"No," Rachel lied. "It all happened so fast. But she was happy, before it all went down. She was happy."

Mrs. Johnson broke into another fit of sobs and Mr. Johnson came to take her away, offering her his shoulder to cry on. Rachel turned away and fled the room.