Ch 56: Tending What Remains
Two days had passed since the death of Dante and Anna.
Dante's body had been removed in the night, shipped to a funeral home in the city. Whatever his crimes, he had been family once.
After Kazimir went to his office, Elena walked toward the center of the mansion, where a narrow door opened onto a walled garden—Nadia's garden, Kazimir had once told her.
She pushed open the iron gate and stepped inside.
The garden was small, sheltered from the wind. Roses climbed the brick walls. Stone paths wound between beds of lavender and sage. In the center, a weathered bench faced a dry fountain.
And there, kneeling among the roses, was Valentina. She wore a simple grey sweater, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. No jewelry. No sharp smile. She held a pair of pruning shears, snipping away dead branches on a rose bush.
She didn’t look up when Elena approached.
Elena stood at the edge of the path and watched. Valentina continued pruning. The only sounds were the snip of shears and the hum of a bee.
'Valentina,' Elena mouthed at last.
Valentina woman did not turn.
Elena stepped closer and tapped her shoulder.
Valentina's hands stilled. She set down the shears and looked up. Her dark eyes were unreadable.
"Little bird," she said. Her voice was quiet, stripped of its usual sharpness. "If you have something to say, say it."
Elena crouched down across from her, her knees pressing into the soft soil. She looked directly into Valentina's eyes.
‘Did you kill Dante?'
Valentina tilted her head. "That’s not what you came to ask."
Elena hesitated. Then she asked: 'Do you know how Anna died?'
Valentina's expression didn't change. She looked down at the pruned branches lying on the soil. When she lifted her gaze again, there was no guilt, only exhaustion.
"Don't you already have answers, little bird?"
'I want to hear it from you.'
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Valentina studied her for a moment. Then she snorted softly and sat back on her heels, brushing soil from her hands.
"I don't know anything about Anna. She barely interacted with anyone until you arrived." Valentina glanced toward the wall of white roses. "She likely took her own life."
Elena's breath caught. 'No.'
"People like her," Valentina continued, "they eventually run out of reasons to stay."
'Why?' The word tore out of Elena, her hands shaping it with desperate urgency. 'She was fine just a few days ago.'
"Maybe she was tired. Maybe she thought it was time to let go. You never know what's going on inside someone else's head."
Elena shook her head. Her eyes burned. 'That's not who she was.'
Valentina shrugged. "People change. Or they hide. Sometimes both."
She rose and brushed soil from her knees. Then she looked around the garden—at the roses, at the stone paths, at the fountain. Her expression grew distant.
"The garden is yours now," she said quietly. "Take care of it."
Elena stared at her. 'What?'
"I'm leaving. Away from here."
'Just like that?'
"Just like that," Valentina replied, her eyes softening slightly. "Take care of him. He's softer than he looks."
Then she walked to the iron gate and stepped through.
Elena stood alone in the greenhouse, her throat tightening as she looked at the roses and the pruned branches scattered across the soil.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The service was held in the small chapel on the eastern edge of the estate.
Anna had no family of her own. She had been brought to the house as Nadia’s personal maid. But everyone in the mansion mourned. The Volkov staff filled the pews.
Kazimir stood at the back. His hand found Elena's and held it.
As the priest spoke of eternal rest, Elena stared at the casket—plain wood, the kind given to servants. No flowers. No procession.
Something twisted in her chest. She turned her face into Kazimir's shoulder and cried. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close.
The service ended. The casket was carried to the small cemetery behind the chapel, where a grave had already been dug beneath an old oak tree.
Elena stood at the edge of the grave and watched them lower Anna into the earth. As the first clods of earth fell onto the casket, Elena reached into her pocket and touched the small, white rose she had picked from Nadia's garden that morning. She dropped it into the casket.
The priest said the final words. The mourners dispersed.
Elena stood alone beneath the oak. Kazimir came beside her and took her hand. The wind moved through the oak branches above them, stirring the leaves. A bird called somewhere far away.
"Ready to go home?" he asked quietly.
She looked at the grave. Anna had helped her. Taught her. Showed her that kindness could exist in a house full of sharp edges.
She wouldn't want me to stay here, drowning in grief. The thought surfaced slowly. She would want me to live. To keep growing. To become someone who helps others the way she helped me.
Elena squeezed Kazimir's fingers. She looked at the mound of earth one last time.
Thank you, Anna.
Last edited by Feiya Phia 5/25/26