Heart First by S.B. Barnes

Author:S.B. Barnes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult, lesbian, asexual, aromantic, aroace, over 40s, crafts, knitting, musicians, misunderstandings, coming out
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2023-10-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The evening of the vigil is cold and clear. Stacy has outdone herself; electric candles light up the high windows of the little campus chapel. The pews are packed, professors sitting toward the front and late arrivals standing up against the walls. Daniel’s getting a little choked up just looking at it. He’s still not sure this is the right move, but it is a tangible, aching reminder that Mario had a home here and was loved.

Detective Taylor is leaning casually against the wall between two windows in a dark suit indistinguishable from her usual attire.

Stacy taps the mic at the front. “Hi everyone. And thank you so much for coming out tonight. I know it’s cold, and we’ve all got finals coming up way sooner than we’d like. Easy for me to say, I know.” She smiles over at the students crowding the walls. There’s a brief murmur of polite laughter through the room. The laugh lines around Stacy’s eyes deepen.

She takes a deep breath and the lines soften and clear as her expression becomes serious. “More than that—”

The door creaks open. Gianna, wrapped in a thick scarf and an enormous winter coat, sneaks in, Tony close behind her.

“Sorry,” Tony whispers.

“Come in, come in.” Stacy beckons them inside. “We’re open to everyone. As I was saying, more than the cold, more than the time of year, I know there are a lot of questions. The investigation into Professor Lombardi’s death is still ongoing, but it has, unfortunately, been deemed a murder. No matter what we know or don’t, right now, I’m so glad we’re all here together to think of Professor Lombardi and what he meant to all of us. There will be time tonight for everyone who wants to share their favorite memories of Professor Lombardi, but first I’d like to open the floor to Professor Ravel to tell us about his life.”

She steps to the side, and Colette glides into place. She’s wearing all black, elegant and understated, no makeup and her reading glasses. She’s demonstrating grief loudly for anyone watching but most especially for Detective Taylor. It’s effective, but it makes Daniel’s stomach turn a little with how calculated it is.

“Mario Lombardi was born in 1982 in Yonkers, New York,” Colette begins. “He leaves behind two brothers and his parents, who were sadly unable to be here tonight.”

Daniel swallows. Would his own parents fly out if he died?

Of course they would. He can’t even think about it twice. Of course they would. And Yonkers is only an hour away. Why on earth isn’t Mario’s family here? Maybe it’s because it’s not a real memorial service? They’re probably Catholic, and this is the least religious funeral Daniel’s ever been to.

“It might come as a surprise that Mario was not a good student in his youth,” Colette continues. “He used to say that asking an art aficionado to care about chemistry was a hopeless prospect, and so he abandoned it from the get-go.”

Shaking his head, Daniel snorts a little.

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