Zoey stepped out of her car, walking along the familiar path she hadn't visited in over a year. The silence of the cemetery wrapped around her as she made her way to the one spot that still felt painfully familiarâher parents' tombstone. Kneeling down, she placed the bouquet of flowers she'd brought, offering a quiet moment of respect. She pulled down her hoodie, the breeze catching her hair as she tied it into a half-updo.
Sitting on the grass, she faced the grave, lost in thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone walking past, stopping at the grave beside her parents'. Zoey glanced discreetly at the personâblack hoodie jacket, faded denim shorts, white chunky sneakers. She shrugged it off, refocusing on the gravestone before her.
"If I'd actually gone through with it last time, I'd be here with you already," Zoey muttered with a hollow laugh, glancing at her left wrist, the memory of old scars hidden beneath her wristwatch.
Stretching her arms above her head, she let out a sigh. "Life's a real fuck-up sometimes," she said aloud, only to freeze when she heard the exact same words muttered from the stranger beside her. The voice was unmistakable. Slowly, Zoey turned, her heart skipping a beat when her gaze met those familiar hazel eyes.
"Harriet?"
"Zoey?"
They spoke in unison, wide-eyed, both clearly startled by the encounter. Just what in the hell...?
Harriet blinked, her expression momentarily frozen before she cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly. "Wow. We really can't seem to stop running into each other, huh?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
"Yeah, right," Zoey muttered, rolling her eyes, trying to mask the strange mix of surprise and discomfort. Of all the people, of all the places...
"So, who are you visiting?" Harriet's voice cut through the silence, though she didn't look Zoey's way. Instead, she sat up in front of the grave she was visiting, leaning back on her hands, her gaze distant.
Zoey glanced at Harriet before turning back to her parents' tombstone. "My parents," she replied softly. "And you?"
Harriet finally shifted her gaze to Zoey, her expression softening. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said quietly, an attempt at consolation. She cleared her throat before letting out a dry chuckle. "I'm visiting my late ex-girlfriend's grave. She passed away... more than twelve years ago."
Zoey froze, her eyes widening in disbelief. Twelve years? She quickly turned to look at Harriet, only to find those hazel eyes already on her, a depth of sorrow within them. Harriet's lips curled into a bittersweet smile. "I guess what you said was true, huh? I don't have anyone beside me because the person who was supposed to be... has been buried for twelve years."
Zoey watched as Harriet laughed, the sound hollow and filled with the kind of sadness that time hadn't healed. "And here I am," Harriet continued, her voice barely a whisper now, "still trying to cope with that loss."
Zoey's chest tightened, the weight of Harriet's words hanging heavy between them. She had always seen Harriet as tough, unshakable. But this? This was raw, and it caught her off guard.
Zoey stood up, glancing at her wristwatch. It was past five in the afternoon, and the two of them had been sitting in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts, beside the graves they were visiting. She sighed softly before glancing over at Harriet.
Clearing her throat, she spoke up, "I'm leaving," her tone nonchalant, though it felt more like a formality. "Not that you care, though."
Harriet chuckled, a low sound that barely broke her focus from the tombstone in front of her. "Yeah, sure. Take care," she mumbled, still not looking Zoey's way. Harriet's silence felt heavy, as if she were having a conversation with the stone itself.
Zoey took a step to leave but hesitated. She cast a glance back at Harriet, a sudden wave of unease creeping into her thoughts. What if Harriet tried something drastic again? Not that Zoey cared all that much... but still.
Without realizing it, her feet moved her back toward Harriet. "You know what, I've changed my mind," Zoey said, sitting down again in front of her parents' tombstone. "I'll just wait for you."
Harriet blinked, surprise flashing across her face. "What's this?" she asked, laughing softly and shaking her head. "Making sure I don't do something dumb?"
Zoey gulped, avoiding her gaze as she sighed. "Well, you do have a tendency to act recklessly. It's better if I stick around... that way, I won't be a suspect if something happens to you, and the authorities find out I was the last person who saw you."
Harriet smirked, her expression softening. "So, you're worried?"
Zoey rolled her eyes, though there was a trace of unease in her voice. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm just being practical."
Harriet scoffed, her gaze fixed once more on the tombstone. Zoey remained still, questioning her decision to stay with this woman instead of simply walking away.
"Don't you think I'm kind of pathetic right now?" Harriet's voice broke the silence as she glanced at Zoey, her words laced with self-deprecation.
Zoey raised a brow, confused by the question. "What's pathetic about someone who's grieving?"
Harriet shrugged, clicking her tongue. "Grieving for twelve or more years?" she asked with a chuckle, though there was no humor behind it.
Zoey exhaled softly, gazing into the distance. "We all have different timelines when it comes to grieving. There's no rulebook for it. If you feel like you're still grieving, then let it out. Why bottle it up?"
Harriet swallowed hard, her eyes drifting back to the gravestone. "Her name was Sophie. Sophie Reed. Does that ring a bell?"
Zoey's attention snapped back to Harriet. Reed? Her mind raced. "Isn't that... Riley's..."
Harriet let out a soft laugh, bitter and tired. "Yeah, Sienna's older sister. The daughter of our biggest rival." She paused, her voice lowering. "Small world, isn't it?"
Zoey swallowed, uncertain of how to respond, sensing Harriet needed to unburden herself. Harriet continued, her voice now tinged with sorrow. "We tried to escape from our parents. Sophie was about to be introduced to her future husband when she turned eighteen. But we were in love, or at least we thought we were, so we ran away. Both of us were only seventeen. We had an accidentâa truck lost control and hit us. Sophie... she protected me."
Suddenly, Zoey's eyes widened, her mind connecting the dots. She looked at her parents' grave and then back at Harriet. "Wait... was that accident at the intersection of Rue de Lausanne and Avenue de France?"
Harriet froze, staring at Zoey in disbelief. "Yes, but whyâwait, don't tell me..."
Zoey scoffed, a bitter sigh escaping her lips. "What a small world," she muttered. "My parents died in that same accident. The authorities said their car was the first one hit by the truck."
Harriet felt her entire body tense, the weight of the revelation crashing down on her. What the hell is this? Both women sat in stunned silence, their lives and losses twisted together in a way neither could have imagined.