Lily sat in the front row, hands clasped and her face craned downwards, looking at her lap as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

She didn’t even move to wipe the tears from her face, or drag the black veil away from her vision.

She just kept crying, letting the tears carve a path down her cheeks.

Lily remembered her mother’s angry face the day before, and their argument. She remembered what a stupid thing they had fought over.

She remembered the way her mother’s words came faster, as they always did when she was upset or nervous.

The slam of the door resounded in her ears, not letting her rest; it played over and over in her head.

She had told her mother that she never wanted to see her again.

And now, Lily was attending her funeral.

She berated herself over a small detail, something most people would have said coincidence.

Thinking about it only made Lily cry even harder.

Yesterday had been the only day she had never told her mother to come home safe.