The funeral

Chapter 130: The funeral

SOPHIE

Everywhere felt cold. The air was thick, unmoving, suffocating in its silence. Mia’s dad was being laid to rest, and for those of us who loved him, the world might as well have stopped turning.  

The funeral was as grand as expected. The media lingered at a respectful distance, cameras flashing as notable figures arrived—politicians, shareholders, business partners. Some were genuinely grieving. Others were here to be seen.  

But none of them mattered. What mattered was the people that sat on the front row, Mia, Marvin, Cecilia, Greg, Ava. His family and loved ones.

Greg stood first.  

His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by something raw. His hands gripped the podium tightly, his jaw clenched as if holding back the weight of his emotions.  

"My brother was a complicated man," he began. "Stubborn. Strong-willed. Sometimes impossible to deal with." He exhaled sharply. "But he was also one of the bravest men I knew. He carried burdens we will never understand, fought battles we never saw, and never once asked for recognition. He didn’t need to. He was John Evans."  

A hush fell over the crowd.  

Greg’s gaze flickered toward Mia and Marvin.  

"And he was a father. A damn good one. Maybe not perfect, maybe too harsh at times, but he loved his kids more than anything. That’s the kind of man he was."  

His voice cracked slightly, but he swallowed it down. "I will make sure his legacy doesn’t die with him."  

Then, without another word, he stepped down, his face hardening as he walked back to his seat.  

Cecilia had been composed all morning, but as she stood at the podium, her hands trembled.  

"My brother..." she started, but her voice broke. She sucked in a breath, gripping the edges of the podium. "My brother protected me my whole life. He was my shield. My rock." A small sob escaped. "And now he’s gone."  

Ava, seated in the front row, covered her mouth, silent tears falling.  

Cecilia clenched her fists, forcing herself to continue.  

"But I know he wouldn’t want us to be weak. He would want us to stand up, fight, and live." She turned to Mia. "Especially you, sweetheart."  

Mia flinched but nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks and I wrapped my hands around her. Then Cecilia stepped down.  

Marvin had been quiet the whole time, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. When he finally stood, he looked... lost.  

He reached the podium, staring at the microphone for a moment before speaking.  

"My dad wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions, I mean, we fell off because of this reason." he started. His voice was steadier than expected. "But he decided to be a better man and repair his relationship with me which I truly respect and don't take for granted. And... I should have told him how much I appreciated him the last time I saw him."  

A sharp breath.  

"I spent a long time running from my problems but he sat me down and told me that I could do better, that I could be better and I couldn't have asked for a better father. I just wish I had more time to show him that I could be the son he always believed I could be."  

There was a moment of silence, then he exclaimed, "I’m going to make you proud of me, dad."  

He stepped down, wiped his eyes before returning to his seat.  

Ava had been sobbing quietly, her hands shaking as she approached the podium.  

"When I first started working for John, I thought he was the most impossible man I had ever met," she said, a watery chuckle escaping. "And I was right."  

A few chuckles from the audience.  

"But over the years, I got to see a side of him most people didn’t. A man who carried the weight of his past, who was fiercely protective of his family, who..." Her voice cracked. "Who loved me in his own way."  

She wiped at her tears.  

"I love him and I will miss him every day." She muttered.

She stepped down, and the weight of the moment settled on everyone.  

Then it was Mia’s turn. She stood on quivering legs, her entire body trembling as she approached the podium.  

Her fingers curled around the microphone, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak.

She looked at her father’s casket in front of her and started.

"Dad..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.  

“I miss you a lot, I've been harbouring regret in my heart because of the last time we spoke to each other, I didn't know it was going to be the last time…” she sniffled, gripping the mic tightly.

“I didn't know your friendship with Ethan was so strong that you both had to die together, if I had known maybe I would have tried to understand you more.” She added, tears dripping from her eyes.

She wiped her tears and continued, “I'm grateful for all the times we spent together, for everything you've done for me. Thank you for being my dad, I love and respect you so…”

Then the sobs came.  

She tried to continue speaking, tried to hold it together, but it was too much. The grief, the regret, the overwhelming pain of losing both her father and Ethan—it crushed her.  

Her knees buckled slightly, that’s when I moved. I climbed onto the stage and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly.  

"It’s okay," I whispered. "You don’t have to do this alone."  

She clung to me, her sobs muffled against my shoulder.  

The audience remained silent, watching as I gently led her away from the microphone. There were no more speeches after that.  

The burial ended in heavy silence.  

Mia barely spoke as we left, her body exhausted from crying. Marvin walked beside her, his eyes dark with grief. Greg was tense, his hands balled into fists, while Cecilia had an arm around Ava, who looked completely shattered.  

As we arrived back at the Evans estate, reality began to sink in. John was really dead and buried.

The next burial was going to be Ethan's.