Chapter 2

A sound came out of me that I did not recognize.

"No!"

My body moved before my mind did. I lunged for the urn.

Too late.

It hit the ground between us. The lid came off.

The white ash that had been my father drifted out, light and weightless. It settled on the wet ground, mixing with the dirt.

The world stopped.

I sat where I had fallen. The white was the only thing I could see.

That had been my father.

That had been the man who tucked me in when I had a fever, the man who taught me to ride a bike on the road in front of our house, the man who looked at me and said I was the best thing in his life.

"Dad..."

The sound that came out of me was something broken, almost inhuman.

Stella was startled for a moment. Then her expression twisted into something like satisfaction. She looked down at me.

"Serves you right!"

Her voice was not loud, but it cut deep. "If you hadn't gone after Hudson, the urn wouldn't have fallen. This is on you."

I knelt in the dirt. Tears streamed down my face, dripping into my father's ashes and staining them dark.

I did not wipe my face. I did not respond to Stella. I did not look at Hudson, who stood beside her with an undisguised smirk.

I reached out with trembling hands, gathering the ashes little by little, trying to put them back into the urn.

"I'm sorry, Dad... I'm so sorry... this is my fault..."

Hudson had his arm around Stella's waist. He let out a theatrical sigh.

"Damon, don't take it too hard. The man is already dead. Besides, this was your own carelessness..."

By the time I had gathered everything I could and placed it back into the urn, I held it close and turned to leave.

"Did I say you could go?"

Stella's cold voice came from behind me. Her hand grabbed my arm.

"I'm not done with those ashes. Give them to me."

"Not done?"

I shook her off.

Two days of grief and rage exploded all at once.

I clutched the urn tightly to my chest, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at her.

"Stella! Are you even human?!

"My father, when he was alive, treated you like his own daughter! He cared about you in every way. You know that!

"What did he ever do to you? Why are you still tormenting him even after he's dead?! You won't even let his ashes rest!"

I had thought that no matter how far gone she was, she would at least have some respect for the dead.

I was wrong.

Completely wrong.

Stella showed no guilt. Instead, a cold, twisted smile spread across her face.

"Treated me well?"

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Damon, don't think I don't know what your so-called good father did to me behind your back."