77 - Eva.

Oak watches the proceedings through a pair of binoculars, while I remain seated on a deck chair, keeping out of sight as he instructed.

I can see the anguish as he watches her funeral from afar, and it pains me not to comfort him. So, I stand, ignoring his order, and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, my father, brother and sister aren't here." His brow furrows. "My uncle is acting like he's calling all the shots." He pulls out his phone, typing something in Italian into google. And then, he drops his phone to the floor, sinking down along with it.

"Oak, what is it?"

He shakes his head and I pick up the phone, scrolling through an Italian news article. It's about his two siblings and father. Apparently, they died last year in a car accident in Sicily.

"They're all dead," he mutters.

I run a hand through his hair and kneel in front of him. "I'm so sorry."

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "I don't know how I didn't know." His brow furrows