I had to handle all the funeral arrangements for my brother. Rwaki, Jason's girlfriend, came a few days before the funeral to help me out. Danny, Kendrick, and Fred-Jason's closest friends from his basketball team-also pitched in. Their presence was a small comfort in the overwhelming sea of grief.
On the day of the burial, the five of us drove to Jason's final resting place. Members of the community church, the reverend, and a few locals who had known Jason attended. The atmosphere was heavy with sorrow, the kind that settles in your chest and makes it hard to breathe. An elderly woman tapped my shoulder gently as she passed by. "It is well, my dear. Take heart," she said softly before joining the other mourners.
The burial ceremony began. The reverend read scriptures and spoke about good deeds and forgiveness, but my mind was elsewhere. Memories of Jason flooded my thoughts-his laughter, his protective nature, his dreams for the future. My throat tightened, and I adjusted my sunglasses to hide the tears streaming down my face. When it was my turn to speak, I barely managed to thank everyone for coming. I kissed Jason's coffin, my lips trembling as I whispered a final goodbye. With unsteady steps, I walked away, my heart breaking all over again.
Danny appeared beside me, his voice low and comforting. "Jason was always proud of you. He used to brag about your muffins, saying you gave him preferential treatment. He made a lot of people jealous."
A faint smile tugged at my lips despite the pain. "He loved my muffins. He could eat an entire tray in one sitting. Once, I caught him sneaking into the kitchen at midnight to steal some. On... that day... I had baked a fresh batch for him." My voice cracked as I remembered the mischievous grin on his face when I caught him red-handed. I had let him have two muffins that night, unable to resist his charm.
"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out," Danny said, his tone sincere.
"Thank-" My words were cut off by a sudden commotion behind us. I turned to see Hunter, the police chief, approaching with a funeral wreath in hand. Two officers followed closely behind him. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and a wave of anger surged within me. How could they have the audacity to show up here? It was because of them that Jason was gone!
Hunter walked up to me, his expression somber. "My condolences, Miss Kasi. Our department extends its deepest sympathies." He placed the wreath on Jason's grave and stepped back.
I marched up to him, my voice trembling with rage. "Please leave. That's the best condolence my brother needs right now."
Before Hunter could respond, a group of reporters descended upon us, cameras flashing and microphones thrust in my direction. Hunter leaned in and whispered, "Don't say anything to them." But his warning only fueled my determination. This was my chance to speak out, to demand justice for Jason.
"Miss Kasi Williams?" a brunette reporter asked, her voice sharp and probing. "Is it true that you've settled with the police department? Many online users are calling for the officer responsible to face justice rather than administrative leave. They argue that the $45,000 compensation can't possibly equate to your brother's life. What's your response to this?"
I froze, stunned by her question. The check Hunter had given me-I hadn't even thought about it since that day. I had been too consumed by grief to care about money. "First of all, I never agreed to any settlement," I said firmly. "I want justice for my brother. Yes, I received a check, but I didn't use it. I don't even know where it is. I was distraught that day-I can't remember what I did with it."
The reporter's eyes narrowed. "But we've seen the signed agreement and proof of the deposit into your bank account. How do you explain that?"
My heart raced. I hadn't signed any agreement! I turned to Danny, who handed me his phone. To my horror, I saw the $45,000 deposit in my account and the documents the reporter had mentioned. The signatures looked eerily like mine. Then it hit me-the day I went to the police station to identify Jason's body, they had asked me to sign some papers. I had been too numb to read them.
"I didn't sign any agreement," I said, my voice shaking. Hunter suddenly intervened and told the reporters that it was enough for the day and to let family members grieve before intense interviews seeing them off.
I sharply turned towards him in rage "Those documents-I was told they were for identification. This is a setup!" I screamed.
Hunter stepped towards me, his tone calm but firm. "Miss Williams, you accepted the check. We assumed you agreed to the terms. When our cameras caught you dropping the check outside the building, we decided to deposit the money directly into your account instead."
His explanation was smooth, but I saw through it. "I don't agree to this," I snapped. "I'm still going to sue."
Hunter's expression hardened. "You can't. The officer involved has already been dismissed. He was in the line of duty, chasing a criminal. It was negligence, not malice. Even if you go to court, the most you'll get is compensation."
My patience snapped. "Guys, let's go," I said to Danny, Rwaki, and the others. I couldn't stand being near Hunter any longer. We said our goodbyes to the remaining mourners and left the cemetery, the weight of injustice pressing heavily on my shoulders.
As we drove away, I clutched the business card the reporter had handed me. Renny Howard. Maybe she could help me expose the truth. Jason deserved justice, and I wouldn't rest until I got it.
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