Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 21

“Who is it?” a deep male voice called from the direction of the stairs.

Yvonne instinctively turned to see her father, Bruce Jones, descending from the second floor. He was a frugal man, wearing his police uniform year-round as if it were his only set of clothes.

Compared to her memories, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had deepened, and streaks of white now threaded through his hair at the temples.

Five long years had passed. People changed, and things were never the same.

“It’s Yvonne, dear,” Monica explained to her husband. “The young woman Vonnie saved.”

Bruce nodded, his stern face softening with a gentle, sad smile. “You’ve come to pay your respects to Yvonne, then. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

As Bruce finished speaking, Monica lit a small, white memorial candle on the mantelpiece and handed it to Yvonne.

“It’s hard to believe it’s been five years since we lost our Vonnie,” Monica said, her eyes turning red.

Yvonne stood stiffly before her own memorial photo, holding the candle as she gave three respectful bows. Mourning my own death, she thought with a dark sense of irony. That has to be a first.

She placed the candle back on the mantelpiece and turned to see Monica secretly wiping away tears. An ache of sadness filled Yvonne’s chest, and she couldn't stop herself from stepping forward and gently hugging her mother.

It had been so long since she had been able to spend any real time with her parents.

Back then, after she’d accepted the undercover assignment and dropped out of the police academy, her father had been furious. He’d yelled and pleaded, but when Yvonne remained ‘unrepentant,’ he had threatened to disown her. Her mother, unable to scold her, could only cry, begging her to stop being so reckless.

The disappointment in her father’s eyes and her mother’s tears had felt like a knife in Yvonne’s heart. In those days, she had been forced to break ties with almost everyone: her parents and the boy she had loved most in the world. The pain was immense, but she was a police officer. The responsibility on her shoulders weighed more heavily than any personal suffering.

I’m so sorry I can’t be there to take care of you and Mom when you’re old. But I promise you, my death will have meant something.

Mom, Dad, I love you. Am I still your pride and joy?

The sudden ringing of the doorbell broke through her thoughts.

“I wonder who that could be,” Monica murmured, puzzled. “We don’t usually get so many visitors.” She turned and went downstairs to open the door.

Alone, Yvonne sat on the bed she had slept in since she was a child and picked up a photo album from the nightstand.

“Bennett, you’re here,” Bruce’s voice drifted through the closed door. “Your uncle mentioned you’ve been on assignment in Vexel.”