I don’t know how long I am out in the backyard, but the sun is gone from the sky when I go back inside.  I am still slightly lost in thought, and I slowly make my way up to the third floor.  

Nua is leaning against her door, his head resting against it, and looks at me when I arrive.  It’s obvious he’s been crying too, but his eyes are dry now and he gives me a slight smile and just shakes his head when I approach.  

I sit down against the wall next to him and stretch my legs out, twisting my fingers together.  “How is she?”

“I tried from the bathroom, but she’s got it deadbolted from her side.  She’s just been pacing for the past, like, hour,” he says quietly, and I rub my face.  “So what?”

“I don’t know,” he says, then stands up.  

“We can’t go in unless she says,” I say under my breath.  Nua ignores me, and pushes open the door.

Ava freezes, her back to us, then says through clenched teeth, “Go away.”

Nua takes a step into the room, and she turns to him.  Her room is a mess.  She’s standing by her bed, where the covers are thrown off and askew, and the couch is somehow tipped over so that the legs stick towards the wall.  Every drawer in her bureau is open and her closet looks ransacked, as if she was searching for something.  Her eyes flash as he comes closer, but after a moment, husband and wife just staring at each other, she lets out a shuddering breath and falls onto the bed.  

Nua goes up the stairs to her side and sits next to her.  He gently touches her shoulder, then wraps his arm around her, and then she buries her face in his chest.  Then I hear her say muffled, “Tell Aber to go see my mother.”

I nod when Nua looks up at me, and leave them alone.  

I find Miss Lilly in her office on the second floor.  She is looking out the window, her hands clasped behind her back.  I don’t know if she’s seen me come in, and after a moment, I say quietly, “Miss Lilly.”  

She sighs, and then looks at me over her shoulder.  “Aber.”

“Ava said to find you,” I say quietly, and she nods, looking back out the window.  “How is she?”

I open my mouth, then close it.  “Kind of a mess, to be honest.”

Miss Lilly smiles, but it’s not happy.  “Yes.  She probably sent you to see what’s going on with a funeral.”

“Oh,” I say quietly.

“We won’t be able to do anything,” she says quietly, “until the medical examiner finds a cause of death.  Although I think a cremation would be best.”

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“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself, and she looks at me again, sighing again.  “A ceremony, a burial, a gravestone that she can visit and weep over?  Or ashes to scatter in the flowers so he can become part of the thing she loves the most?”

I didn’t know she loved the flowers the most.  I feel defensive over them for some reason, as if she’s stealing Abigala’s joys.  “That makes sense.”

“The garden was his idea,” says Miss Lilly softly.  “Keol’s.  They say it was for her initial prominent, but I think they both wanted to have something dedicated to her brother.”

I suppose I should act surprised to hear about her brother.  I’m not sure if I’m supposed to know.  But she doesn’t seem shocked that I’m not, and after a moment she just turns back to the window.  I take that as my cue to go.  

I look down the hallway towards Keol’s guest bedroom.  A light shines into the hallway from under the closed door; he’s still in there.  I go up the stairs slowly and towards Ava’s door.  Nua left it slightly ajar.  When I look inside, he’s sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard, with our wife’s head in his lap.  Her eyes are closed, black tears still staining her cheeks, and he strokes her hair back with one hand as the other loosely clasps around hers.  He looks up at me, his eyes sad.  “What did she want?”

He’s talking quietly, and I can’t tell if Ava’s asleep or not.  I go to them, looking down at her, and say, “Funeral.”

Ava makes a noise, burying her face in Nua’s lap, and he just strokes her hair back, over and over.  I go down the stairs and put my hands under the couch, tipped over onto its side.  With some effort I lift it back right-side up, and sit down on it, and pour myself a drink.

I sleep there that night.  Nua and Ava are still in the same place in her bed when I wake up the next day to Bayan bringing us food.  And we stay with her all day.  She doesn’t move much, and only wakes to eat a few bites that Nua holds in front of her lips for her.  Her cough is worse and she seems to prefer being asleep, so we just let her.  We don’t talk much, just listen to the bustling around outside as the doctors and coroners speak to Ava’s mother.  The heavy curtains across her windows are drawn open a little, and only when the sun starts to hide behind the trees does Nua stretch.  

I glance over at him.  Ava’s asleep like she’s been for most of the day, and I’m sitting on her other side on the bed.  Nua gently lifts her head off his thigh and places a pillow underneath.  She sighs, adjusting herself, but doesn’t seem to wake.  I smile slightly.  “Are you going to bed?”

He opens his mouth to answer, sliding carefully towards the edge of the bed, but before he can say anything, Ava’s sleepy voice breaks through, ragged and hoarse.  “Are you leaving me?”

He looks back down at her, his eyes filled with concern, then runs his hand over her arm.  “Not if you don’t want me to, no.”

She sighs again, and then says softly, “Where’s Aber?”

“Right here,” I say quietly.  She opens her eyes for a moment to see me, then slowly closes them again.  “Where’s Keol?”

I look over her head at Nua, who opens his mouth, then just shakes his head at me.  She buries her face up to her nose in the covers, and Nua lies down next to her, wrapping his arm around her so she’s pressed against his stomach.  I hesitate, then slide under the covers as well, pulling a pillow so I’m lying on my side facing them, and her hand finds mine under the blankets.  I give her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Nua smiles tiredly at me, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and we don’t say much else.  We lie there, our wife between us, as she opts to sleep instead of feel.  

I’m tired, too.  I didn’t do much all day, just laid on the couch hoping not to be bothered by Ava’s mother, but my mind is exhausted.  I wonder why I’m here, why I’m voluntarily with Ava when I could be in my own bed in my own room, and even more so why Nua is.  But I feel bad for her, and I think he does too, and we’re both sad, too.  I don’t know what would happen to my mind if I was alone all day.  I should be thinking about myself, wondering what this means for me, because she and Nua have both expressed their disinterest in each other, so what does it all mean when she goes back to her old self again, where does that put me?  But just looking at her now, lying in bed, her breath ragged even in sleep with mascara trails on her cheeks, I wonder if she’ll ever go back to her old self.  Is this what happened when her first favorite husband, her first prominent died?  Will we get another husband in the house in a few days’ time?  

Nua’s almost asleep as well, and I watch the sunlight move softly over both their faces, casting dark shadows on the rich red comforter over us.  I think of how Ava coughs, even without a cigarette in hand, and how long it’s been since she’s had one because Keol told her that he didn’t like it when she smoked.  I think of how Keol seemed to be getting sicker, how he coughed just the same as her, until he collapsed that day and didn’t get up.  I think of Abigala when we were young, how she would always stand slightly in front of me whenever anyone approached us, even our parents.  I think of them, how they worked so hard to help the boys found desperate for a home that cared about them, not just as bodies but as people, and I think about Ava again, and I think of if she cares about us as people, if love really has nothing to do with it.  

And then, before I can answer my own questions, I’m asleep.