The bells of St. Michael’s rang low, each chime like a slow heartbeat echoing through the ancient stone of the church. It was the kind of sound that didn’t just fill a room—it settled into your skin, your bones, your chest. A sound you didn’t just hear, but felt. Ana stood at the front of the church, her feet heavy, unmoving. Everything around her seemed soaked in a shadow too thick for the sun to pierce.
The stained-glass windows scattered soft colors across the pews and floor, but even those rays felt muted, subdued—like they, too, were in mourning. The sweet scent of incense lingered in the air, thick and relentless, mingling with the aged smell of old wood and melted candlewax. Beneath her black veil, Ana’s face was hollow. Her eyes—once lively and full of fire—were now rimmed with shadows, fixed on the single point that consumed her entire world. The coffin.
It rested at the front of the altar, surrounded by white lilies and velvet cloth, heavy and still like the final punctuation at the end of a sentence that came too soon. Rareș. Her husband. Her partner. Her forever—now a memory trapped in polished wood. Beside her, squirming in her arms, was Sofia—their two-year-old daughter. The child’s cheeks were flushed, her nose red and wet from crying, though she didn’t fully understand why. She only knew that something was terribly wrong. That the man she called “Daddy” wasn’t smiling anymore. That people in black had filled their home. That no one had laughed in days.
Her mother didn’t smell like lavender and bread anymore, but like tears and silence. Sofia reached a tiny hand toward the coffin, her sobs turning into breathless cries. “Daddy! Daddy!” Ana clutched her tighter, trying to hush her with kisses and murmurs, but her own throat was raw—too raw for words to sound soft.
The crowd murmured quietly behind them. Family. Friends. Strangers, even. Some stared in pity. Others bowed their heads. But no one knew what to say. What could you say to a young widow holding a fatherless child?
Ana closed her eyes for a moment, gently moving her hands to wipe away the tears that erupted without warning. She knew she couldn’t keep crying—not for Sofia, not for herself. She had to be strong, for both of them, but everything happened so fast that she felt like she had been shattered. Deep inside, she felt like rubble, a piece of a life that had once been full of color now broken and scattered.
Sofia was too young to understand everything, but she felt that something had changed. She looked at her mother with big eyes, filled with curiosity and fear, not yet comprehending why things were different. She didn’t know that her father wouldn’t come back from work anymore, that he wouldn’t lift her high into the air like he used to, making her laugh. And Ana, who wanted so much to keep her safe, couldn’t give her an answer that would calm the fear that sat deep within her.
In a corner of the churchyard, an elderly woman whom Ana didn’t recognize stood silently, observing. In her hands, she held a bunch of white flowers, wet with water. She took a slow step toward Ana and, as she approached, handed a flower to Sofia, speaking in a soft voice, “Remember, my dear, every sign of love is a person who stays in your heart.” Ana, watching the woman, felt a strange comfort, as if small signs of love could turn a lost and unwanted feeling into something softer, something more beautiful.
As the funeral procession moved on, Ana remained there, near the garden, trapped in a sea of thoughts and emotions that she couldn’t express to anyone. In those moments, everything became incomprehensible. She didn’t want to move beyond this point, but she was afraid to stay there—stuck in a past that was swallowing her whole.
Yet, she knew that, like every painful end, this would also be a new beginning, even though it wouldn’t be as hopeful as before. She held Sofia tightly in her arms, looking at her carefully, to help her see a world where she could grow, where she could make a sound in it, even without her parents present. Ana would teach Sofia that, despite losses, love always found a way to survive, to live, to grow, and to move beyond any suffering.
