Chapter 3 - The Vestry Door
The grip on my arms didn't let go, but it stopped pulling. That was the first change.
We stood stuck in the middle of the aisle while the air stayed heavy behind us. I could feel both men breathing beside me, steady and careful, like they were waiting for somebody else to decide what the next move was. My cheeks were still wet. I tried to breathe through my nose so I wouldn't make another sound.
Then I heard her heels.
She came down the side aisle fast, not looking at the guests, not looking at the flowers. Her brown hair was pulled back so tight I could see the strain at her temples. Her black earrings caught the low light when she turned her head. She stopped a foot away from me and didn't touch me. She didn't have to.
Her eyes flicked once to the men, then back to the screen. The blue glow was still on my father's face, frozen mid-word. The room had gone too quiet for a funeral home. No organ. No whispering. Just the hum of the projector.
She leaned in close enough that I could smell her perfume, something sharp and clean. Her mouth barely moved.
"Vestry. Now," she said. "Wait there."
One of the men on my left shifted his weight. "Ma'am—" he started, low.
She cut him a look. "Walk her over. Side door. No scene."
I swallowed. My throat hurt from crying. I wanted to ask why I couldn't stay, why she got to decide, but my voice wouldn't come out right. So I just nodded a little, because my legs needed to move somewhere.
They turned me toward the left wall, away from the main doors. The carpet was dark and thick under my shoes. Every step felt loud even though it wasn't. The men kept their hands firm on my upper arms, guiding, not dragging now. My dress stuck to the back of my knees.
As we moved, I saw them. The guests.
Two rows back, a man in a black suit had his phone up, angled toward the front. The little red light was on. A woman beside him had hers half-hidden in her lap, but the screen glowed up on her face. Near the back, a younger guy held his steady with both hands, pointed straight at the memorial screen.
They weren't looking at me anymore. They were recording him.
My chest tightened. I wanted to tell them to put the phones down. This was my dad. This wasn't for the internet. But I couldn't say anything with the security still holding me and her walking two steps behind us like a shadow.
We reached the side of the room where a narrow wooden door stood half-open. A small brass sign said VESTRY. Warm light spilled out from inside, different from the cool blue at the front. I could see a couch, a folded stack of programs on a table, a box of tissues.
Behind us, the big screen had gone quiet. No sound came from it now, just that blue-tinted light looping on his face. His mouth moved and then stopped. Moved and then stopped. The glow washed over the front rows and made everyone's black clothes look blue at the edges.
The older woman stepped ahead of us and pushed the vestry door wider. She didn't look at me.
"Inside," she said.
The men walked me over the threshold. The carpet changed to tile. Cooler air hit my bare arms. I heard the door hinges creak.
One of them finally let go of my right arm to reach for the door. My skin stung where his hand had been. I wrapped my arms around myself without thinking, trying to cover the short sleeves, trying to stop shaking.
She stayed in the doorway, one hand on the frame. Her shoulders were rigid. For a second her eyes met mine, and there was something in them I couldn't read — not grief, exactly. More like calculation.
"You wait here," she said, quieter this time. "Don't come out until I send for you."
I opened my mouth. Nothing came. I closed it again.
Then the door started to swing shut, and the two men stepped back out into the main room, taking positions on either side of the frame. I could see their black ties and white collars through the narrowing gap. They weren't holding me anymore. They were guarding me.
May you like
The latch clicked.
I stood alone in the small bright room, listening to the muffled silence of the funeral on the other side, with the blue flicker from the screen leaking in under the door.
