Hudson shuffled down the aisle with the rest of the Black Harbor Police Department. His throat tightened. He gasped, drinking in the stagnant air as he came within feet of Garrison’s corpse. He glanced to his left at Noelle and Lilah. Their faces were puffy, their eyes raw and red. He managed a weak nod and then, biting his lip, looked back at Garrison. He looked a little better than he had the last couple of days. His makeup had been touched up. His arms were crossed over his chest, right hand placed on the brim of the eight-point cap that Hudson had only ever seen him wear in parades.

Hudson’s hand trembled as he raised it to his temple in a farewell salute. The edges of his mouth pulled downward as though some invisible puppet master was contorting his face. His lip quivered. He felt hot, the grief he’d been keeping trapped inside all week finally boiling over. Tears burned wet, translucent trails down his cheeks.

Suddenly, he felt the comfort of arms around him. Noelle hugged him tight, pressed her forehead to his. She smelled pure, like lavender and eucalyptus. An unexpected observation occurred to him then: He didn’t remember the last time someone hugged him.

“Brix loved you.” Her words were hardly more than a breath in his ear. “He loved you like he would have loved his own son.”

He wanted to say I loved him, too, but the words were stuck in his throat. A quiet, high-pitched whimper escaped him. He didn’t even know he was capable of making a sound like that.

“You come see us tomorrow, okay, Ryan?”

“I will,” he managed. He was aware again of the line behind him. But Noelle was Garrison’s widow. Today, at least, the world paused for her. When Lilah stood, he turned to accept her embrace. He kissed the top of her head. He’d never done that before, to anyone, but it felt appropriate in this horrible, surreal moment. They didn’t exchange any words. Sometimes words just weren’t enough.

When he found his seat, he sat facing forward, his eyes closed, and willed his mind to drown out the sounds of the organ.

The pastor read John 15:13. Hudson knew the scripture by heart. His lips moved to the words, but no sound came out. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Chief Stromwell spoke next. “Officer Garrison was a hero,” he said, and Hudson felt the word deep in his bones. It was true. Garrison had selflessly given his life in exchange for catching a dangerous criminal. He remembered the nights spent sitting in Squad #23, the two of them waiting for an opportunity like the one that finally presented itself to Garrison on December 19. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they would have prevailed.

Jesus, Garrison. Why did you have to go after him alone?