Chapter 3

The day of Ethan' s funeral was gray and cold, matching the chill in David' s soul.

The church was small, the gathering sparse – a few of Ethan' s teachers, some kids from the diner, a couple of neighbors.

Victoria arrived late, making a show of dabbing her eyes.

She carried a brightly colored, plush toy, something a toddler might like.

"I found this," she said to David, her voice thick with feigned emotion. "Ethan loved these when he was little."

David stared at the toy. Ethan hadn't played with anything like that in over a decade.

He remembered Ethan, at ten, meticulously saving his allowance for a used science kit, his face lit with excitement.

This toy was another prop for her performance, a symbol of how little she truly knew their son.

He said nothing, just turned towards the simple casket at the front of the church.

As they were about to follow the pallbearers, Victoria' s phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, her expression shifting from performative sorrow to genuine annoyance.

"It's Leo," she whispered to David, as if sharing a burdensome secret. "Finn is having a severe anxiety attack about starting college. He needs me."

David looked at her, disbelieving. "Now, Victoria? Ethan's funeral?"

"It's a sudden work crisis, David, a real emergency," she said quickly, her eyes darting towards the church exit. "I have to go. I'll meet you at the cemetery."

Before he could respond, she was hurrying down the aisle, her heels clicking on the stone floor.

Outside, he heard the distinct screech of her car tires as she sped away.

A work crisis. For Finn.

He stood alone at the church entrance, the inappropriate toy still clutched in her abandoned seat, as Ethan' s casket was carried out.

The few mourners looked on with pity and confusion.

David felt a coldness spread through him that had nothing to do with the weather.

She hadn't just abandoned him; she had abandoned Ethan, one last, definitive time.

The weight of it, the sheer, callous disregard, made his knees buckle.