One by one, they dragged their empty suitcases out of the apartment. Marjorie was the last to leave. She paused at the threshold, looking at the temporary urn sitting next to the funeral flowers. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but she found nothing left to grasp. She turned and walked down the hallway, her hurried footsteps fading into the distance.
Mr. Henderson offered a quick, stammering apology before Elena dismissed him. The heavy front door clicked shut, and finally, the apartment was filled with the one thing I had prayed for.
Silence.
I walked over to the entry table and placed my hand gently on the cool surface of Bradley’s urn. I looked down at the flowers, still fresh and fragrant.
“We did it, Brad,” I whispered, a single tear finally escaping and slipping down my cheek. “They’re gone.”
Elena stepped up beside me, her professional demeanor softening into something warm and genuinely compassionate. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “You did beautifully, Avery. He would be very proud of you.”
“Thank you, Elena,” I said, wiping my face. “For everything.”
“I’ll have my assistant coordinate with the building to change your locks first thing tomorrow morning,” she said gently. “Take some time to breathe. The storm is over.”
When they left, I walked over to the sofa and began to fold Bradley’s sweaters, one by one, placing them carefully back into the closet where they belonged. I was still grieving, and the emptiness in the apartment was vast, but for the first time since his passing, I felt safe. I was home, and no one could ever take that away from me again.
