Zadie’s POV
The morgue smelled like chemicals and death. I had seen bodies before, too many in my line of work but none of them prepared me for the horror of walking toward the cold steel drawer labeled with his name.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” the attendant asked gently, already gripping the edge of the sheet.
“I have to.”
My voice didn’t even sound like mine anymore. It was hoarse. Empty. Like something had been carved out of me and thrown away.The sheet peeled back slowly. I didn’t breathe.Then I saw him, or what was left of him. My knees nearly gave out.
The face was unrecognizable. Burned. Twisted. The skin warped from the fire, lips melted into a grimace, and the scent of smoke and blood still clung to the body. The chest had been crushed, the arms rigid in unnatural angles. But on the wrist charred but intact was the bracelet I gave him. That silver band he swore he never took off. I covered my mouth, but the sob burst out anyway. My shoulders shook, and the tears came in violent waves.
“Oh God... Lazaro...” The name felt foreign now.
I dropped to my knees beside the table and let the grief take over. All the things I didn’t say. All the nights I left his messages unread. All the moments I convinced myself I could live without him. Now, there was no more time.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat raw. “I thought walking away would keep us safe. But it just made me lose you.” The attendant didn’t speak. Didn’t rush me. Maybe he knew this kind of heartbreak when he saw it.
The funeral was three days later. Gray skies. Cold air. A small gathering of names I barely knew, people who feared him in life but stood stiffly in black to honor him in death. I stood at the front, holding the eulogy in my shaking hands.
“He was a complicated man,” I began, voice breaking on the first word. “But beneath every mask, every sharp suit, and every dark deal... was someone who wanted to protect the people he loved. He gave me chaos, yes but he also gave me peace in ways no one else ever had.” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I wish I had more time. I wish I had said ‘I love you’ when it mattered. But the truth is... I always loved you, Lazaro. Even when I was trying not to.” I stepped down, walked to the casket, and rested my hand on it.
“I forgive you,” I whispered. “I hope... wherever you are... you can forgive me, too. After the last handful of dirt hit the casket, I turned to leave. Luca was waiting at the gate, an unreadable expression on his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. When I reached him, he didn’t say a word, just handed me a sealed envelope.
I frowned. “What’s this?” He didn’t answer. Inside was a folded sheet of paper. Two things: a plane ticket to somewhere far south, warm, and unfamiliar and an official certificate.
A new name. Kendrick Monesterio. My breath caught. “What is this?”
Luca’s lips pressed into a tight line. “His way out.”
I shook my head. “You think he’s-”
“I think... if anyone could fake his death, it’s Lazaro,” he said. “And if this is real, if Kendrick Monesterio is out there... then maybe he did what you asked. Maybe he gave it all up.” My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear him.
“Why give this to me?” I asked.
“Because he wanted you to choose,” Luca said quietly. “Stay here and grieve. Or take the ticket... and find out if there's still something left to chase.” Tears welled up again but this time, they weren’t just from pain.They were from hope.