Mom said I had to get up. I had to go to the funeral. I felt her watching me, waiting for a response. “Cole and Lexi have come for you.” The way she said it made it sound like they were taking me off to the funny farm.

They’re coming to take me away. Hoo-hoo, haa-haa, hee-hee.

I started laughing maniacally but then quit when I caught my mom choking back tears. I clamped my lips shut and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “What?”

“I don’t understand why you’re laughing.”

“I’m laughing because this is ridiculous. Kori can’t be dead. She just can’t.”

“But she is.”

“But I don’t feel it!” I screamed. “Don’t you think my heart would have broken by now?”

Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe this whole thing was just one bad nightmare. The only way to find out for sure was to go to the damn funeral and see for my damn self.

Cole and Lexi came in as Mom left. They’d come by at least three times; called every hour, it seemed from all the ringing. So far I had yet to talk to them. I couldn’t face them. I know that’s awful. They needed me as much as I needed them, but until then, I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to acknowledge the reality of what had happened. I couldn’t say the words.

Lexi made my bed with clean sheets; Cole shoved me into the shower before heading straight for my closet. She pulled things out but found nothing appropriate despite my wardrobe being heavy on black. It had been years since I’d been to church, and I’d never been to a funeral, not one that I could remember, anyway.

When I was younger we went to church a lot. Correction—we went to a lot of churches. Mom’s explanation was simply that there was more than one way of thinking, and she’d certainly explored them all. In her Where’s Waldo? approach to finding Jesus, we attended just about every church imaginable. But I don’t think I’d ever been inside Our Lady of the Rockies.

Inside, it was like an overturned ark. The riblike boning of the roof formed the massive hull. Giant oars pitched out on each side. The stained glass revealed a watery underworld complete with mermaidlike angels—not flying, but floating—outside of the windows. It made me feel a little bit claustrophobic. A little like I was drowning.

I recognized a few other students and teachers, but essentially strangers crowded the foyer, filling it with their gentle voices. I felt so far removed from it. Like this whole other world existed that Kori belonged to, but I had never even breathed its air.

“Let’s just get seated,” Cole suggested, and Lexi and I followed her.