Did she even know these people? Did she even care? Who were the people to the left of her? Did it really matter? Were they really there anyway? Was she really here?

Kate closed her eyes and willed her heart away from where she was stranded. Bowing her head, she opened her eyes, and focused on the black skirt in her line of sight. It fell over her ghost white knees, revealing ghost white calves, and black pumps. Her fingers were intertwined in her lap, giving the black satin and velvet a contrast so brilliant it hurt her eyes.

Someone sat beside her, but didn’t speak. All day long she had been fielding pitying remarks and feigned smiles. She didn’t want any more comforting. Maybe if she didn’t speak, then this one person would pass her by. She glanced over to the shoes beside hers. They were black sling-backs with flesh-colored nylons and a gray skirt gracing the ankle. Kate knew the skirt.

“Charlotte,” Kate whispered, not lifting her head.

Charlotte’s hand slid into her lap, and took a set of ghostly fingers in hers. Only then did Kate realize that her hands were icy. She grasped the warmth of Charlotte’s fingers, holding onto them like she was drowning in a sea of ice. “How you doing?” Charlotte asked softly, not above a whisper. Kate shrugged. “Do you need a drink?”

“Do you have whiskey?” Kate whispered.

Charlotte smiled a little, and leaned into her best friend. “I could probably track some down.”

“Do that, then,” Kate replied, her voice barely loud enough for Charlotte to hear. Charlotte got up and moved away, leaving Kate alone once again.

She lifted her head, allowing the brown hair to fall from her face, showing the ghostly pale flesh of her cheeks, brightened by blush, foundation, powder and eyeshadow. Everything about her face, the color, the cheerful shine of her lipstick, it was all painted on. She felt like a little girl playing dress up with her mother’s clothes. Well, except that the clothes fit, and her mother… Well, her mother was the reason she was here.

“Katherine?” a voice said. She turned her head to find some obscure uncle she didn’t remember the name of. “I’ve been looking for you. I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for your loss. No one should go through what you did, and at such a young age.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied gracefully, still frowning. “I appreciate your condolences. Be sure to extend them to my brothers, they are up front a bit more.”

She didn’t accept the hand he offered. She looked back down, allowing her hair to fall in her face once more.

It had been only months before when it had happened. The stroke had paralyzed her on the left side. She would never walk again. She would never write again. Seven months later, another stroke had claimed her life. Kate had lived a complicated existence before that. It had never been all roses in her life.

Teresa had been a good person, but had never been a good mother. She had forgotten about her children every once in awhile. She went out with friends when she should have been at home. Baby-sitters were a waste of money, she never hired them. She would often beat Kate with a hairbrush when she didn’t do as she was told. She would be beaten until she bled, and then Teresa would pretend it had never happened.

But through it all, Kate had loved her. Loved her for the crazy, mixed-up way she looked at life. It was never Teresa’s fault. It was everyone else who’d gone crazy, not her. She lived inside a bubble that could never be popped. Kate used to think it was strength. But it wasn’t. It was the weakness that killed her mother. Kate loved her despite the beatings and the horrible mothering. She was strong through everything. At least until this.

“Kate?” a voice asked. She didn’t move. “Katie?”

Kate lifted her head the slightest to see black leather lace-up shoes before her. She continued tilting her head up to reveal black chinos and a pink and black Burberry shirt. “Hey,” Kate whispered to her younger brother. He was the oldest of the two, sixteen years old. She patted the antique sofa next to her. He sat down. “What’s up?” she asked, her voice heavy.

“I’m tired of people looking at me as if I’m going to snap,” Mason replied softly. She reached over and took his hand, but didn’t speak. He squeezed it tightly, and rubbed his other hand over it, as if to warm it up. It didn’t matter, his hands were hypothermic too. “I need something to drink,” he finished.

Kate didn’t move, just sat there, only her lips finding the strength to move. “I’ve got Charlotte looking for whiskey.”

“Can I get some when she finds it?” Mason asked.

“You’re underage,” Kate replied. Mason didn’t make a sound. “Absolutely.” Mason nodded, and rose to his feet. “Where are you going?” Kate asked.

“Somewhere where I can get away from all these people, wanna come?”

Kate lifted her head to meet his eyes, those blue eyes that showed her the pain his voice denied. “I’ve looked for such a place. If you find one, come back for me,” she replied. Mason vanished.

Up in the front of room, near the casket, Levi, her youngest brother, sat in a chair. He had his back to the wall, and he was glowering. No one had approached him since he’d plopped himself down. He watched the people milling around, several of them coming up to the casket and weeping. Some of them glanced to him, whispered some words to a companion, and walked past him with only a nod. He knew what they were talking about though. His mother was dead, when he was only fifteen. He was branded. They would stare less if he stood up and danced a jig. At least then he wouldn’t feel like they were waiting for him to snap.

He watched everyone in the room, without caring if they saw him staring at them. He didn’t know any of these people, and he had no idea what he was doing here. He didn’t know his mother, he never had. He lived with her the longest, and had no idea who she was. He hadn’t known who she was when it happened, let alone after the fact. The only one that knew Teresa was Kate, and Kate wasn’t talking to anyone about her.

Kate stood up, straightening her skirt and blouse. The blouse was scarlet, the color of dried blood. It matched the glistening color on her lips. She shook her head, feeling the hair hit her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders. The little whips stung ever so slightly, waking her a bit. She ran her hand through her hair, feeling the tug of the roots in her scalp. Every one was a pinprick to remind her of her pain that day.

A hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned toward it, and brought her eyes up to meet his. Long, black, curly hair fell to his shoulders. He had shaved, and it made him look twenty or so, which was only a year younger then he really was. He was dressed in a black Versace shirt and gray chinos. He looked good. Kate practically fell into his arms. “Oh, Andy,” Kate whispered, leaning into his chest. He stroked her hair, making soothing sounds as she sobbed.

“Its okay, Katie,” Andy whispered, holding her tight. He was her best friend since tenth grade, almost seven years now. They had shared everything, had even dated for a moment or two. When she had come from seeing her mom for the first time after the first stroke, he was the one that hugged her while she cried. He was the one that she called right after the second stroke. He was the one that came to the hospital and caught her just as she collapsed. She had been treading water today, waiting for him to show up. “Katie, have you eaten anything today?” She shook her head. “Come on,” Andy replied.

The table in the next room was laden with food. This was an all day affair, apparently, and Teresa’s family had put out food for everyone who wanted to come in and pay their respects. Andy led Kate along by the hand, his warm fingers intertwined with her cold ones. He reached the table, and started piling cheese blocks and fruit onto a glass plate.

“Katie,” another voice said from behind them. Andy half-turned to find Doug standing behind them. He was the “other” best friend. He and Kate had grown close after they dated for about a week. They had broken it off because an ex-lover of hers had shown up and admitted that he loved her. Shortly after that, he dropped her for the fun-loving bachelor life-style. He wore a dark green button down shirt and khakis. He was rather portly, or as Kate so elegantly put it, he was fluffy. She loved his fluff, and often teased him about it. He had the look of a six year old, and when he pouted he plucked all the right heartstrings.

Kate went to him, and allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He kissed the nape of her neck lightly, like butterfly kisses. Something in the familiarity of this repeated greeting comforted her. It was almost as if nothing had happened. “You okay?” Doug whispered. She shrugged against him. He pulled tight, holding her close. “Have you eaten?” Doug asked?

“Working on it, Doug,” Andy inserted, smiling over Kate’s shoulder. Between the two of them, Kate was the most important thing in the world. Doug nodded to him. “Wanna take her to sit down?”

“I’m not a child,” Kate lectured, her voice stern. “I can’t make my own decisions.”

“Do you want ranch dip or French onion dip?” Andy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kate mulled over it for a long moment, then shrugged. “You win,” she whispered, leaning against Doug. Doug nodded and led her across the semi-crowded room and set her down on a sofa. Kate leaned against him, burying her face in his chest. She mumbled something into his chest. He tapped her head lightly, and she lifted her face from his shirt, and repeated, “Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” he replied, brushing hair from her eyes. “Are you tired of pretending yet?” he asked, smiling sadly. She shook her head. “It’s okay if you are. Andy and I are prepared to kick ass if someone bothers you.”

“Half of these people don’t know who I am,” Kate replied, looking around the room. Andy appeared beside her, setting down the plate in her lap. “Thanks Andy.” She picked up a cheese block and popped it into her mouth.

Shoes appeared before her, and she grimaced. “Katherine?” a female voice asked. Kate lifted her head, and found an older woman standing above her. “I’m Rachel Houston, a friend of your mother’s from a few years back. I just wanted to tell you that, even in the end, she was an incredible person. She was a great mother, of that I’m sure.”

Kate stared at Rachel for a long moment, before she glanced to Andy, then Doug. “Guys, I’m not feeling so hot…”

Instantly, both of them stood up and took an arm each. “Miss Houston, how exactly did you know Teresa Montgomery?” Doug asked as they led her away.

As soon as the seat beside her was vacant, Charlotte plopped down with a flask. “Take a hit,” Charlotte whispered. Kate took the flask and knocked back a sip.

Sighing, she handed it back to Charlotte. “Where’d you find the flask?” Kate asked.

“He’s here,” Charlotte replied. Kate arched an eyebrow questioningly. Charlotte tilted the flask back, and Kate looked at it. Inscribed on the bottom were the initials H.J. Kate’s eyes widened and she raised her eyes to scan the room.

He was standing across the way, leaned against a wall. His black jeans and black shirt were far too familiar, his legs were crossed as he leaned, he metal on his black cowboy boots gleaming. He had his black cowboy hat on, and his head was bowed, like in a movie. Holden always had a flair for the dramatic. Kate rose to her feet, and felt herself being dragged across the floor, toward him.

“Holden Jensen,” Kate whispered, coming close enough to touch him. Over a year had passed since she had last seen him. He’d broken her heart, and left her for dead. He was the first man she ever loved, and she was devastated when he left her. She spent millions of hours thinking of him returning to her. She had dreamed up a thousand different ways for him to return to her. Leaned up against the wall at her mother’s funeral was not one of them.

“How you doing, Katie?” Holden asked, tilting his head up to meet her eyes.

Kate shrugged. “Thanks for coming, Holden,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me.” She turned and started to walk away.

“Katie,” Holden said, vaulting himself off the wall and following her. “I’m sorry that this happened, you know. All of it.”

“That’s nice of you, Holden. If you’ll excuse me,” Kate replied, not slowing.

“I mean that I’m sorry for what I did.”

“I know, Holden. That’s nice of you. Excuse me,” Kate continued. She still didn’t stop in her trek across the room. Still, Holden didn’t stop trailing her. “Can I help you with something?” Kate asked.

“Do you miss me, Katie?” Holden asked.

“Not anymore, Holden. Thank you for coming, now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Charlotte intercepted Kate on her path away from Holden. “Want another hit?” she asked, offering the flask.

“No, thank you. But find Mason, he needs some… And offer some to Levi, please.”

“Kate, they’re fifteen and sixteen,” Charlotte whispered.

“Yes, Charlotte, and our mother just died. Give them some whiskey.”

Charlotte didn’t argue anymore. Kate walked around the corner and back into the viewing room. In the corner stood Andy and Doug, talking amongst themselves. She strolled over, her eyes still icy from talking to Holden. “What’s up, baby girl?” Doug asked, sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

“Holden’s here,” Kate replied softly.

“Do you want us to make him leave?” Andy asked, glancing at her sideways.

She shook her head. “No. He’s all right.”

Kate watched as her uncle made his way to the podium at the front of the room, next to the casket. He cleared his voice, and leaned down to speak directly into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind finding a seat, we would like to get underway.”

Automatically, Kate stepped away from Doug and Andy. They flanked her as she made her way through the crowd. People who saw her coming stepped out of her way. Charlotte made her way to meet Kate. In front, Kate sat between Mason and Levi. In the second row, Doug and Andy sat on either side of Charlotte, right behind the three siblings. Kate held her head high, keeping her hair out of her face. Levi had his glare going, and Mason looked straight ahead, his eyes glazed over.

Slowly, people began to speak. Her uncle began, followed by her mother’s ex-boyfriend, then her aunt, and then her grandmother. Then, her father, Teresa’s ex-husband, stood up. He walked to the podium, tall and proud in his suit, and he began to speak.

Tears welled up in Kate’s eyes, and she bowed her head. She took a deep breath, and listened to the words her father was saying. The kind, heartfelt words describing a woman that dragged him through legal and emotion sludge. Charlotte reached out and brushed her hand across Kate’s hair. That’s all that was needed to start the waterworks.

In the back, Holden Jensen watched as Kate Montgomery broke down. He moved the slightest bit, wanting, needing to be closer to her. But before he could take a couple steps, Andy Christopherson had stood up and moved around to take the seat from Levi. Levi moved over, and Kate turned into Andy’s shoulder and wept. Her slender shoulders shook with her tears, and Holden bowed his head.

Andy cradled her, longing to steal her pain and lock it away where she would never find it. Behind him, Doug watched her lean against Andy. He too longed to make it all go away. She’s been dealt a bad hand her whole life, but this was the end of a very long game. She deserved so much better then she had gotten in the last few years. She deserved the world, and it killed him to watch her stumble her way through life.

Kate felt the tears draining from her, washing her cheeks clean, scalding the pain. She leaned into Andy’s warmth, feeling his chest rise and fall. Beside her, Mason broke down, tears falling on his loose collared shirt. On the other side, Levi’s glare melted away as he too began to sob. Andy stood back up, and moved around the back, allowing Levi to slide back up to his sister. She gripped him, holding on tight, both he and Mason living off of her strength.

Doug watched this incredible woman hold onto her younger brothers, giving them strength, pulling them up from whatever it was that they were falling into. Beside him, Andy watched as Katherine Montgomery struggled to stay glued together, despite her need to fall apart. In the back of the room, Holden rose to his feet, his eyes locked on his soul mate sobbing in the front, and walked out. Somewhere in her tears, Kate forgot all about him and all the pain he inflicted. Behind her sat her three best friends, and beside her were her two favorite brothers. This was the end of a terrible game, and a horrible hand to be dealt.