At the Funeral.

The rain fell in a steady drizzle, a cold, gray veil over the city, mirroring the heavy hearts of all who gathered. Andrew and Victoria Woods moved swiftly to arrange the funeral for their son, Price, after the body was released. They were efficient, focused, almost mechanical in their grief, pushing through the preparations with a determination that left little room for the involvement of Lily's parents, the Andersons. It wasn’t out of cruelty but a deep-seated belief that they knew best how to honor their son’s memory.

For Andrew, well, it was out of hatred. He just didn't like them. And the reason is not all that far fetched anyway.

Lily was involved in every step of the process, yet she was more like a shadow moving through the arrangements than a person. Her grief was a living thing, raw and overpowering, exacerbated by the pregnancy she carried. Her face was rarely dry, tears spilling down her cheeks as she tried to navigate her responsibilities.

She was able to tell her par