The morning went by in a flash. All Devin remembered was fishing out his tux and being transported to the funeral home on a beautiful sunny day. The irony.

Devin stared out the tinted window of the limo. The night he found out about his parents' demise replayed in his mind and left a gash on his soul every time he imagined the noise, their cries, the blood.

The blood. There had to have been so much blood.

Their bodies were so mangled that they had to be cremated, so what was the point of going through the theatrics of getting a hearse to transport their ashes? He took a deep breath, hoping to alleviate the pressure in his chest.

Shan had refused to let him see his parents' bodies that night, but Chueng's lifeless face conveyed just how bad the damage really was. Afterward, Ms. Dee picked them up from Western Alley and rushed them to the hospital. By then, of course, it was too late to say goodbye. Devin replayed the eternal ride, remembering how tightly he'd gripped his knees that he was doubled over. How Trechial rubbed his back and how he couldn't even feel it. Ms. Dee's puffy eyes glimpsed in the rearview at him the whole ride there. The only thing Devin was told was his parents had been in an accident. Trechial's leg tapped ruthlessly next to him. He placed a hand on her knee. Glossy eyes met him and she covered his hand with hers.

***

They'd made it to the hospital, and Shan met them at the entrance, his bloodshot eyes and red nose indicated that he had been crying. He walked up to Devin and embraced him. Devin had shoved him back. "Where are they?" His voice cracked.

Before he knew it, he was crying, and Shan was holding him harder, and Trechial was crumpled in a chair, crying.

All he could recall was demanding louder and louder in Chinese to be told where his parents were. If they were okay. If they were alive. He'd said it all in Chinese, naturally.

Diana had knelt next to Trechial and held her shoulders, tears streaming down her own face. Devin knew then that something bad had happened to them. The sliding doors opened, and he moved in the cool air did nothing to remove the burning sensation within him.

"I have to see them."

Shan grabbed Devin by the wrist he spun around to him. "Where are my fucking parents!" he'd shouted. The chatter in the Emergency Room came to an erupt halt.

Shan pulled him into his embrace clutching him tightly, his own body trembling. "They didn't make it."

Shan stepped back his hands planted on his arms, tears pooling in his eyes. "They're gone."

The numbness that overcame Devin destroyed him. For the days following, it was as if he couldn't see or feel or hear anything except one thing:

They're gone.

They're gone.

They're gone.

"We're here," Shan said from the front seat of the limo, bringing him back to the present. Devin nodded. He took several deep breaths, but the discomfort in his chest remained.

Devin and Shan each placed the urns into the small marble compartment of the mausoleum. Sobs came from every direction. His dad's fishing buddies' and coworkers' eyes dampened with tears. Yoon Mi Rae's book club friends clung to each other, weeping bitterly to the left of him. Neither one of his parents' family attended but both had requested their children's ashes be sent to their country so they could hold their own separate memorials. They also requested that Devin attend so they could meet him. He could go the rest of his life without seeing any of them. His family was right there in Willow Heights.

His temples throbbed, and he saw everyone grieving, their hands covering their mouths or their face. Women dabbed at their eyes and noses, but he couldn't hear their wailing. It was as if a tragic silent movie played in front of Devin.

His beating heart was desolate. This world, this moment, held a sense of detachment. There was no way that his parents were dead. That all his parents resulted in was dust. His father's one-hundred and sixty-five-pound body fit into a small container. His father's hard work, strength, resilience, intelligence. Gone. Yoon Mi Rae's loving heart, gentleness, dry humor, great cooking, tender touches–– all vanished in the blink of an eye.

There was no way two people in the prime of their life were composed to nothing but ash. For the first time since the news of his parent's death, an overwhelming feeling of despair engulfed him, sending a deathly cold shiver up his spine. Small bumps pricked his skin, and he took a deep breath but he still did not shed a tear.

He looked over at Trechial, who was dressed in all black. Ms. Diana had a weak arm over her masking her own distress. He wanted to reach out and wipe Trechial's tears away because out of this crowd of people, hers were the only tears that were real to him. He knew she loved both of his parents as her own. He knew how close Trechial was to his mother. And he knew her mourning at the very least was genuine.

Trey, Leandro, Maylee, and Mr. Johnson were positioned next to Trechial and Ms. Diana. Leandro was hard to read, probably holding it in, attempting to be strong for the girls. Maylee sniffled while patting Trey lightly on the back, who wiped tears away from his eyes. Yoon Mi Rae adored Devin's friends, treated Trey and Leandro like her own sons when they came around, making them snacks while telling her mom-humor jokes. Trey and Leandro would engage her, but there was no way they thought her knock-knock jokes were actually funny. Yoon Mi Rae loved Maylee for her brazen honesty and fashion choices. His father admired Trey for his excellent basketball skills and quick wit humor. And he praised Leandro for his swing on the baseball field.

Some guy began to close the marble door where Devin's parents' urns lie as the pastor bid them farewell. It was then that Devin realized this was the last time he would see his parents in any form. Even now, the memories began to slip away. His throat swelled and his forehead tightened. He heaved in until his throat sunk in and released it. There wasn't enough air. He hyperventilated. His body wavered, and Shan's distant voice called out his name as his body plummeted to the ground.

*******

Trechial rang the doorbell then knocked like a police officer. She called Devin every day, at least ten times a day to make sure he was eating. Shan answered, confirming what she already knew. She needed to know how Devin was doing, it had been a week since the funeral, and she hadn't heard from him. It was insensitive to ask the question, "Are you okay?" to someone who just lost both of their parents. Of course, he wasn't okay. It would be alarming if he were, yet that question walked her brain daily.

When no one answered she pounded on the door again, she angled her neck to look at the two-story house that Mr. Liao worked hard to pay for and Yoon Mi Rae filled it with love and joy and maintained it. Her mom and a handful of neighbors had made sure Devin and Shan had food for the week, whether they ate it or not Trechial didn't know. Charlie didn't like that one bit even grumbling beneath his breath about her mom cooking meals for other men.

Meals. How many meals had Trechial enjoyed with the Liao's? How many conversations had she and Yoon Mi Rae shared over snacks in the sunroom? Moisture glistened her eyes.

Yoon Mi Rae's sugary voice coupled with a sly smirk formed on her lips as she filled her in right before Trechial and Devin's date. "He'll chase you, my girl. All you have to do is run."

"No matter what Devin says you are someone he holds close to his heart. The two of you have a long journey ahead of you and it's okay if it's not your time to be in a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship right now as long as the two of you hold onto the imperfectly perfect friendship you have. Got that?"

Trechial nodded at Yoon Mi Rae right as Mr. Liao and Devin emerged looking every bit like father and son with their dark hair and matching jawlines.

It was the last moment they would share together.

A Beethoven symphony of waterworks commenced playing when Trechial was interrupted by the opening of the front door. Shan managed a smile, his striped pajama pants, stubble, and bed hair gave way to his sadness. Red puffy eyes did their best to hide his misery. He cleared his throat behind a closed fist. "Hi, Jewel."

The pain in his voice once again reminded her that the original owners were no longer with them. She swallowed her own despair and smiled weakly.

"Um, is Devin here? I mean," she stammered, "I just wanted to check on him," she quickly said. "I won't be long, I promise."

She looked at the ground, fidgeting her thumbs. He hesitated, running a hand through his messy hair. Fearing his denial, she looked back at him in a haste.

"I can come back another time."

He stood. observing her for a long second and moved to the side. "I suppose a few minutes won't hurt," he said.

She released the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Thank you, Shan." She bowed her head slightly, earning her a light chuckle from him.