"Whoever said that love can't be deadly was a liar", I thought as I looked down at her grave. The rain kept trickling down my umbrella as I read the engraving,
'Mariana Ha-Salvador, 1997 - 2021
Loved by her family, resented by the world'.
The grave itself was cracking at the edges, and tiny flowers grew at the bottom. I looked over at my children whose eyes held no emotion, and I tightened my own. Bruce, my bodyguard, gently tugged on my black dress.
"It's getting late madam', your wife is waiting for you at home." He spoke softly, and I nodded. We walked to the gray BMW and I buckled in my children.
I'll see you soon,
Mariana.
