Chapter 3 Mourning hearts, watching eyes.

FRANKLIN FORTE CEMETERY, MALIBU Wednesday 1st March 2018, 4:15 pm

Gusty winds blew throughout the cemetery, the leaves of the pine trees danced in tune with the wind. The clear blue sky was subtly being replaced by dark clouds. The sun gradually disappeared behind the dark clouds. One could notice the flashes of lightning across the sky.

Yes, it was going to rain.

The clouds gathered quickly releasing drops of rain.

At the farthest end of the cemetery stood a silhouette of a lady.

The wind tugged at her coat. She held her hat in place before the winds took it with them.

In front of her was a freshly covered grave. White roses sat on the mound of earth,their petals wet with the drizzle.

She had a rose in her hand.

Her fingers clenched the stem of her rose. She'd not moved for minutes, but inside,a struggle was being fought as intensely as the one outside.

"I cannot believe this," she growled, her own voice hardly audible above that of the gale. She had her stare on the engraving of the tombstone which read:

M. Lancaster, 1970-2018

"It wasn't supposed to turn out like this,after everything" her voice trembled, heavy with disbelief. Her pent up breath was followed by a sigh. She didn't notice when the rose escaped her grasp nor when the once-clear blue sky was totally replaced by dark clouds.

It had begun to pour.

Rain trickled down the brim of her hat. Tears had begun to build up in the corners of her eyes blurring the engraving before her.

A sleek black Porsche car had stopped at the cemetery gate. The headlights flashed briefly at the lone figure in the distance

"Heather!" The driver called out urgently, turning off the revving noise of the engine.

The driver alighted the car, gaze still fixed on the figure. Don't tell me you've been out here all morning...What has become of you, Heather.

The driver soon shut the car door and walked towards Heather.

"Heather!" she called out again. Frustration creeping into her tone this time. The driver quickened her pace with every step. She cussed under her breath as she strode forward towards Heather.

Heather remained lost in a trance.

Grief.

It had consumed her, drowning out everything else.

She hadn't felt this depth of sorrow since she had lost her childhood cat- but this was different.

This was unbearable.

Her whole world seemed to be falling apart, bit by bit. How did one say goodbye to someone who has been with them all their life.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. One after the other.

"Heather" The driver called out rather softly this time as she placed her hands on Heather's shoulders.

Heather flinched.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips. Olivia. She suddenly became aware of the downpour and eerie stillness of the cemetery. How did she end up all alone here? Where has everyone gone?

"Are you alright?" Olivia's voice cut off her thoughts.

Heather recognised the voice instantly.

"Olivia?" she breathed, barely more than a whisper. She rose slowly, gasping with relief as she produced a thin smile.

"Do you feel alright? You don't look at all like it, though," Olivia said, scrunching up her brows in worry.

Heather nodded in affirmation, her lips curling into a smile - quite a façade that was.

"Let's get you home, okay?"

Olivia took Heather's hand reassuringly and began to walk her to the car.

Heather hesitated.

"Home?" The word escaped her lips. She didn't want to go back there. Not after everything. The image of her father's gloomy face surfaced in her mind, and she hated seeing him like that.

"No, my place," Olivia clarified, glancing over at her. She had forgotten all about the umbrella she'd brought. It didn't matter. Finding Heather did. And she was glad she had.

They headed for the car. Olivia helped Heather into the back seat.

"It'll be alright, okay?" she murmured, shutting the door.

She climbed into the driver's side, started up the engine, and before long, they left the cemetery.

The drive was silent.

Nothing had been spoken since they left the cemetery. Nothing regarding the funeral. No small talk. Nothing but the sound of the quiet engine purr and the tires' occasional creaking when they drove over rough roads.

The silence wasn't silence - it was dense, heavy, like a miasma that had permeated the car, oppressing them

From the driver's seat, Olivia kept looking back at Heather in the rearview mirror.

She had nothing to say - didn't know what to say.

Heather just sat, eyes glassily fixed out the window, shoulders rolled in, her coat clutched tightly around her.

A small cloud of mist exited her mouth. She was cold. How long had she been out? Olivia wondered. Quietly, she leaned forward and turned up the heat.

"I completely forgot to get a blanket from the house," she said, talking in a whisper, disrupting the silence like a stone dropped into still water.

"I might have to stop by there and grab one." She was able to force a weak smile and nodded toward a gas station a few blocks ahead.

Heather gazed at her with a blank expression. That was Olivia - always trying to be thoughtful. But right now, it didn't matter.

Nothing did.

The car stopped at the gas station and came to a halt.

"Be right back," Olivia said softly, looking at her. She smiled again - not expecting that it would be returned. Smile, Olivia. Be the best friend. The loyal one. The one she trusts.

She doesn't need to know how I feel. Just that I'm here. Always. Olivia told herself as she stepped out of the vehicle.

Olivia stepped into the convenience store soon after filling the tank. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead.

She scanned the cramped shelves - chips, energy drinks, painkillers - before noticing a rack near the counter packed with rolled-up travel blankets.

That'll do, she thought.

She picked up a black one and moved toward the counter. The line was short - a small mercy. She let out a soft sigh. A long wait was the last thing she needed.

Then it hit her - a scent.

Sweet. Rich. Familiar.

Vanilla and oud. Heavy, luxurious - out of place in a dingy gas station shop. Her head tilted to the side, eyes scanning the store.

She didn't see anyone she knew, but the scent lingered, thick in the air, like the echo of something she thought she'd buried. Was she imagining things?

"Thank you," the woman in front of her purred, turning away from the counter.

Her eyes met Olivia's.

"Haley?" the woman blinked, surprised. She hadn't expected to see her here. Maybe not ever.

"Isa?" Olivia's voice faltered. The name tasted like dust - old, familiar, unexpected. She stared, still trying to walk herself down memory lane.