55

Today is the funeral and wake of the two men with didn’t make it during the fire. The thought of it takes me back to that night, did I think to ask if anyone was injured, I think I might have but when I saw Niko, I was overcome with relief. But there was.

Two men.

Willy, a made man in his early twenties and the breadwinner to his single mom and two younger sisters. He had died on the scene. Andrew, married with a son, had been in the intensive care unit for days with third-degree burns, before passing away.

I’d heard from Maria that there were three others injured but not as badly as the other men who died. When she mentioned it this morning, I told Niko I wanted to go.

After this, I intend to visit the injured in the hospital, and every family involved in the accident.

I wear a knee-length black dress, pull my hair back in a low ponytail, and sit at the back of the car with Niko as we drive to the funeral home after leaving the cemetery where the two men have been laid to re