It was a line from the old Disney movie Pollyanna, from a scene Charlotte Page had never forgotten. She’d been terrified by that minister, slamming his fist and yelling such a horrible sentiment—but she understood now. Because death did indeed come unexpectedly.
The thought waged war with her emotions, but she held it together—barely. She wasn’t prone to tears, and even though this funeral was only the second she’d attended in her thirty years, she’d decided in the car on the way here not to cry.
Or maybe she simply couldn’t because she was still in shock. Maybe losing your best friend only months past her thirtieth birthday was the kind of life event that never made sense, no matter how long you lived.
Nothing about it felt real. From the second she got the phone call, she’d been in a sort of thick fog, and as of this very moment, sitting in the pew of a little church in Harbor Pointe, Michigan, it hadn’t lifted.
I’m so sorry.
The words pelted her without permission. She hated that they did. She hated that she’d never said it in person. She hated that Julianna was gone now and she’d lost her chance.
Death comes unexpectedly.
The Harbor Pointe Community Church hummed with conversation, appropriately low and quiet in tone and volume. Charlotte spoke to no one. After all, she knew no one. She wasn’t a part of Julianna’s community. Their friendship stretched back years, but there was a gap now because their paths had diverged so smartly nearly a decade before.
At the front of the church, on an easel, was an enlarged photo of Julianna, taken just last year, beaming, as she always was, and surrounded by her young children. The frozen image smiled back at Charlotte, a bittersweet reminder of how it felt to be the recipient of her undivided attention. Jules never did anything halfway, including friendship. She was the most genuine soul Charlotte had ever known.
And this—her death—was one of life’s great injustices.
That hot, burning lump in the back of her throat flared up, reminding her that she would carry this sadness inside her for a very long time. Maybe for the rest of her life. How would she ever get over this loss? It was too tragic, too sudden, too soon.
Too unfair.
Music signaled the start of the service and Julianna’s family entered. Her husband, Connor, walked in with their three beautiful children, bigger than Charlotte remembered.
Connor’s lifeless eyes focused straight ahead, like a man in a trance walking a straight line to the gas chamber.
Charlotte looked away, not wanting to stare. Her eyes fell to Julianna’s oldest, a daughter named Amelia. A dancer.
Julianna’s mini-me.
The little girl held her dad’s arm as they walked down the aisle, stoic and somber. Alaina, the baby, was in Connor’s other arm. A twinge of guilt and sorrow mixed together at the back of Charlotte’s throat.
Why did this happen?
She pulled her eyes back to the aisle, thinking it was strange for the family to be on display like this. Wouldn’t it have been less conspicuous for them to have been seated first so they could avoid what she had to imagine was unwanted attention?
Her thoughts had run away from her, but the sight of a familiar yet unfamiliar face pulled her back to the present.
Cole.
Julianna’s brother had grown up and filled out. He was a man. A solid brick of a man—not the “cute boy” she remembered from all those years ago.
Teenage insecurities pummeled her, renewed like an overdue library book.
Sometimes Julianna’s letters had mentioned him, and even seeing his name sent a strange shiver down her spine. Charlotte had always been somewhat sheltered, but she knew a cute boy when she saw one. Cole was cute. More than cute. He was older and cooler and so very good-looking.
And Julianna clearly adored him, even back then.
After she met him when she was a young teen, Charlotte wondered if he’d ever cross her path again. He came for the occasional performance, but mostly he remained a mystery. An unsolved mystery. Which meant her mind could conjure whatever image it wanted to of him, and it did. She didn’t know Cole in real life, not really—but that wasn’t stopping her heart from racing now.
Her eyes followed him down the aisle where he slid into the pew next to Connor. Gently, Cole took the baby from her father, then motioned for AJ, the middle child, to move closer to him. He might be a solid brick of a man, but he