Brandon smiled, reaching out to adjust her scarf. "It's late. I was worried about you. I made some sweet rice dumplings. Make sure you eat them when you're done."
Bonnie sighed, a sound of affectionate exasperation. "You really... You shouldn't have come. This place is filthy. I didn't want you to see anything that might scare you."
Filthy.
The word echoed in my mind.
She wasn't afraid of rumors. She wasn't afraid that her husband might find out about her affair.
Her only fear was that my bloated, rotting corpse might offend Brandon's delicate eyes.
Tears fell in the silence of the afterlife, unseen and unheard.
Bonnie had guided Brandon to a nearby bench, sitting him down with a tenderness that made my stomach churn. To any passerby, they didn't look like people at a crime scene. They looked like college sweethearts revisiting their old campus, lost in their own world.
They chatted casually, ignoring the bloated, battered reality lying just yards away.
They were ignoring me.
Brandon spoke first, his voice laced with practiced vulnerability. "Bonnie, I can't take it anymore. I can't accept my child calling another man 'Dad.'"