Page 93 of Not Today, Satan
A clock in the next room chimes twelve times. In the back of my mind, I realize it’s my birthday.
I’m eighteen.
I made it to Earth in time to escape my fate in Hell.
But none of that matters now, because Nate didn’t make it out with me.
PART FOUR: AIR
“But the stars that marked our starting fall away.
We must go deeper into greater pain,
for it is not permitted that we stay.”
-Dante’sInferno, Canto VII
XLIV.
The sun casts a warm, yellow glow across the rows of stone in front of me, but the blacks and grays of the cemetery remind me of home, and I shiver despite the ninety-degree weather.
They’ve already dug a hole for Nate’s empty urn in the grass. I kneel beside it, ignoring the morning dew that dampens my skirt.
I told my mom it was pointless, burying an urn containing nothing and pretending it’s Nate, but she said it was more about the closure that comes with the motions and not the actual burial.
Like any Earth custom could remove even a small part of the ache pulling apart my chest.
Mom’s hand clamps around my shoulder. “Take your time, honey.”
“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” I say, more to myself than to her. “We both know where he is, and it’s not in here. Thanks to me, he’s probably back in Lot Thirteen, being personally tortured by Father.”
My voice cracks on the last words. Tears break from the corners of my eyes and streak down my cheeks. They splatter the soil at my knees.
“Devica.” Mom kneels beside me and takes my hand. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t send Nate back to Hell.”
“I didn’t save him from it, either.” I pull out of her grip and flatten my palm against the side of the urn. “If I’d been strong enough to kill Alex, Nate would still be here.”
I’ve spent the last few days reliving my time in Alex’s house, closing my eyes and making a different choice.
If I’d done that, Nate would be in my arms instead of back in Hell.
“You don’t know if it would’ve fixed this,” Mom says. “Killing Alex might have done nothing, and then you’d be without Nate and feel guilty about Alex, too. Even you admit that Nate wouldn’t have wanted you to sacrifice his foster brother for him.”
I sit back on my heels and grip my skirt with a tightened fist. “And what if I was wrong? What if Nate would’ve gladly given up Alex’s life to avoid going back to Hell?”
Mom wipes at her black pants. “We both know he wouldn’t have chosen himself. Not if he’s anything like the boy you haven’t stopped talking about all week. You did the right thing, Devica, even if it feels wrong in this moment.”
I nod, but my grip tightens around the urn.
None of this is right.
My insides curdle as I lower the urn into the hole. Mom hands me a rose from the bouquet she’s carrying and gestures for me to toss it in on top. She follows me with her own blood-red flower before laying the remainder of the bouquet beside the grave.
Mom stands and squeezes my shoulder again. “I’ll give you a moment alone with him. Take all the time you need.” Her flats crunch through the grass toward the parking lot and the sound dissipates until it’s only me and the dead. It’s a feeling I should be used to, but the quiet of this space screams louder than the shadelings in the Welcome Hall.
Scanning the graveyard, I speak to the breeze that nudges the trees with its breath. “I don’t know why humans insist on this stuff. It’s pointless. You can’t hear me where you are, Nate, but Mom swore this would make me feel better.” My voice cracks, and I wipe the tear that’s escaped down my cheek. “So far, she’s wrong. Nothing fills this gaping hole you’ve left behind.”
I push to my feet and brush the grass from my skirt before pacing next to the grave.
