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Summary
“I think I just need a moment alone,” Clarke said, and the mourner soon nodded in understanding, offered a pitiful smile and stepped away. Clarke clenched her fists behind her back.
“Of course, you take all the time you need, dear.”
Clarke just shot her a watery smile back and waited until she was left alone with the coffin of her dead wife. She stood there, in the cold, candlelit hall, eyes stuck on the doors as all the mourners filed out.
The second the door shut and she was alone Clarke threw her head back with a relieved sigh. “Oh thank the fucking gods,” she breathed, and promptly gave a rough kick to the coffin in front of her. “Are you done playing your death?”
The coffin moved.
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