Funeral

Mia, dressed in black, stayed by Claire’s side. When Sarah’s coffin was being lowered into the ground and everyone surrounded the burial plot to say a final goodbye, Mia walked up to me. ‘Mummy won’t want your flower.’ She stared at the white rose in my hand. Her voice had lost the sweet honeyed tone of an eight-year-old. It was harsh and hoarse, and it was filled with malice. ‘Mia.’ Kieran stepped forward. ‘She’ll never be my new mummy!’ the girl shouted. Then she snatched the rose from my hand, tossed it to the ground and stomped on it as hard as she could manage. She ran back to Claire and wept bitterly. Kieran’s family had never liked me to begin with. Now they shot me accusing looks as if I was the evil witch in a fairy tale and Mia was the bullied princess. Nobody bothered to listen to what I had to say. They had all probably heard about Sarah’s final note. It started to drizzle. Mia hugged Sarah’s tombstone and kissed her mother’s picture. She left with Claire. Eimile was still