Chapter 25 Burial
ANNA'S POV
I walked quietly down the long hallway, the floor reflecting the dim morning light that seeped in through the windows. My black gown, long and elegant, pooled behind me as it brushed the ground with every step. I could hear the faint rustle of the fabric with each movement, a soft reminder of where I was headed and what the day would bring.
My gaze stayed mostly lowered, my eyes tracing the patterns in the tiles as though they could somehow distract me from everything I had weighing on my thoughts. But it didn’t work. Nothing did today. Not the gown, not the silence, not even the deep breaths I tried taking to soothe myself.
Then, footsteps sounded from behind the corner. I paused for just a second, recognizing the steady rhythm of someone approaching before he came into view.
“You know, for someone who just heard they’d be taking over a multi-billion dollar company, you don’t look too happy about it,” Daniel’s voice called out, his tone trying to sound lighthearted but tinged with awareness.
I looked up, managing a small, tired smile. “That’s because I have a lot on my mind right now.”
He nodded knowingly as he fell into step beside me, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Let me guess,” he said as we reached the staircase, “does it have to do with Isabel?”
“I don’t know why she just doesn’t like me,” I admitted, my voice quiet but filled with real confusion. “Did I ever do something wrong to her? Is there something I don’t know that makes her see me the way she does?”
Daniel’s eyes met mine briefly before we both started down the stairs. “I don’t know either,” he said after a moment. “I’m just as shocked as you are. I mean, what’s there to hate about you?”
I didn’t answer. The words lingered between us anyway. I let out a slow sigh as we reached the bottom of the staircase and began heading toward the entrance. “I’ve thought about it over and over, Daniel. If I did something to offend her, even unintentionally. But there’s nothing. Now Dad says I’m going to take over and she hates me even more. For someone who never had a sister before,” I said softly, “I honestly thought we would’ve had the strongest bond.”
Daniel was quiet before he spoke again. “You heard what Dad said yesterday. She probably doesn’t mean half the things she said. Don’t let it bother you too much, alright?”
I nodded, trying to take his advice to heart. Maybe I was thinking too hard. Maybe she didn’t really mean it like that. Or maybe I just hoped she didn’t. Today was already heavy enough.
Today was Uncle Larry’s burial.
Dad had told us all that we’d be going to console the Cole family, particularly Mrs. Cole and Ryan, their son. As someone who didn’t have any real relationship with them, I knew once I gave my condolences, it was best to just stay out of the way. Mom would spend time comforting Mrs. Cole, and Daniel knew Ryan, so they would handle things emotionally and respectfully.
“You can ride with me if you want,” Daniel said, interrupting my thoughts. “Getting in the same car with her while things are still heated isn’t exactly the best idea.”
“Sure,” I replied quietly.
We reached the main entrance, and I saw Mom and Dad already being ushered into their car by the driver, the door held open with practiced professionalism. The sky was overcast, fitting for the day.
I watched Isabel step into her own car, her posture tense, shoulders drawn back as if preparing for a battle rather than a funeral.
I was meant to ride with her. But like Daniel said, today wasn’t the time to test the waters.
We got into our car and settled in. One by one, the rest followed behind as the drivers pulled the doors closed. Our vehicles moved forward in a quiet procession, following each other closely.
It didn’t take long to reach the burial site. Once we arrived, the cars came to a slow stop, and the drivers hurried to open the doors for us. I lifted my dress slightly as I stepped out, careful not to let the hem drag too much on the damp grass.
The air was thick with emotion. The place was crowded, filled with people dressed in black, some in suits, some in dresses, all showing their respects.
It wasn’t difficult to spot the Cole family. Mrs. Cole was seated, surrounded by who I assumed were her own family and close friends. She held a small tissue delicately, wiping her eyes repeatedly as the grief seemed to come in waves.
Then I saw him.
Ryan.
He stood in front of a framed picture of Uncle Larry, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders stiff. He stared at the photo with no expression, no tears, no frown. Just silence. His jaw was set tightly, and I could tell that even though he wasn’t showing any emotion, a storm of it was brewing inside.
“That’s Ryan,” Daniel said quietly, following my gaze as we walked the rest of the way. “I noticed you’ve been staring at him standing there.”
I nodded slowly. “He just stands out,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone else is broken, in tears… but he just keeps staring, like he’s not letting anything show.”
We approached Mrs. Cole, and I stayed one step behind Daniel, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. I didn’t know her. I didn’t know what to say without sounding empty or rehearsed. Daniel and my parents could handle this far better than I could.
“We’re so sorry to hear the news. Larry was a great man and a great friend. My condolences,” my mom said gently, bending down to give her a soft, consoling hug.
“Thank you all for coming,” Mrs. Cole replied, her voice fragile, breaking on certain words. “I know you weren’t really in the right position to come, but you still did. That means a lot.”
“Larry was a brother to me,” Dad said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “No matter where I am in the world, I’d still show up.”
Mrs. Cole nodded, her lips trembling slightly. She let out a few quiet sobs before lifting her head again, her gaze sweeping across us until it landed on me.
“This must be your daughter,” she said to my mom. “When Larry told me you’d found your biological daughter five years ago, I found it hard to believe. But now seeing her here…” she paused, studying me. “She looks just like you.”
For some reason, those words hit differently. They felt warm, kind. But at the same time, I could feel Isabel’s resentment from where she stood just a few feet away. I glanced towards her.
She was frowning, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her posture already screaming how displeased she was. It was like the universe itself had decided that everything anyone said was going to push her even further away from ever liking me.
Every little thing. Every word. Every glance.
It was all making her hate me more.