Page 122 of My Secret Bandit

The house felt eerily still. Not at all how I remembered it those times I visited.

No one in the living room or the kitchen, no one out on the back patio meant they were all upstairs.

My heart sank as we all made our way up. Sniffles and quiet sobs filtered through Amelia’s bedroom door. Mateo’s hand reached out and twisted the knob, simultaneously reaching back to hold my hand with the other. His chest filled with a long breath of air as he pushed the door open.

Benny and Thomas faced away while Amelia’s little arms wrapped around their necks and her tear-soaked face rested between the curve of their shoulders.

Mateo inched forward, our fingers slipping apart.

When he got to the foot of the bed, Amelia’s eyes looked up at him. “Tío,“ she cried, reaching up for him. In his arms he cradled her tightly, rocking her gently while she cried.

“Shh,Bebita. Estoy aquí. Te tengo.”

With blurry eyes locked on them, I jumped when Benny’s arms wrapped around me. I held her as her soft cries turned into heavy, both of us slipping to the floor when the strength to stand left her.

Xander lifted her off the floor and carried her to the bed. Thomas’s hand opened to me and with a quick pull, he wrapped me in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” I said with a rough whisper. Sorry he lost his daughter, sorry I distanced myself from them, and sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to the woman who accepted me with open arms at first sight.

“You’re here now,” he responded quietly, understanding that my apology extended to more than this one horrible thing. “That’s what matters.”

Everythinghappensforareason, right?

For the past few days, I wracked my brain to find the reason behind this.

So far, I had nothing.

No acceptable reason explained leaving a child motherless.

No life lesson seemed important enough to force parents to bury their own child.

Although we knew Mariana’s job came with risks, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

We shouldn’t be here right now. We should be at the stadium. Watching cheerleaders wave glittering pom-poms while our team ran the length of the two parallel lines before settling on the sideline in a huddle, rocking in unison to their pre-game chants.

Instead, I was sandwiched between a crying Mateo and stone-faced Xander while trying to keep my own tears from moving any further than the corner of my eyes.

Xander’s arm came to rest across my shoulders. His hand squeezed the top of Mateo’s, and the clamp around my heart only tightened its hold.

A chaplain stood tall, positioned in front of us. I watched their mouth move but couldn’t hear anything they said. The only things my ears focused on were Mateo’s sniffles and the breeze rustling in a tree nearby.

Three deafening shots jarred my already scattered senses. Mateo’s fingers locked with mine tightened after feeling me jump at the sound.

My tear-filled eyes followed as a pair of soldiers in dress blues marched to the casket covered with an American flag. The slow, melodic tone of “Taps” flowed from a single golden trumpet over our group. As the music faded, the pair lifted the flag, folding it. One saluted and marched away while the other knelt in front of Amelia, handing her the flag.

With a face that’d done this far too many times and regretted having to hand the memento to a child, he spoke something my aching heart refused to let me hear at first. My stomach twisted as Amelia’s hands rested on top of the soldier’s and my hearing returned.

“Please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service,” he finished.

She nodded, tears running down her cheeks as he slid his hands out from under hers, leaving her clutching the folded fabric to her chest.

The chaplain read a final prayer while we watched the casket sink lower.

Mateo firmly kissed the top of my head, inhaling a heavy breath before walking Amelia closer to the ultimate resting place of her mother.

Leaving them to say their goodbye, I walked with Xander to the SUV waiting to take us home. Not wanting to enter the space without the rest of our family, we waited, Xander’s arms around my shoulders and mine tight around his waist.

Benny and Thomas held each other, crying over a daughter lost too soon.

---