A/N: I'm sorry I haven't been updating very much on my Alex Rider fanfic, I've hit a bump in the road and I'm needing time to develop the story more. I hope you guys don't hate me for it. But here's something so that you don't think I'm not still writing.

SABINA'S FUNERAL

There weren't very many people there.

The first was Alex Rider. He had heard about Scorpia's attack on the Pleasures right after it happened – Edward Pleasure had phoned him as soon as he could. There had apparently been a fire, started by an explosive planted in the living room, in the center of the Pleasures' home. Sabina had been right there, watching something on television, when it went off. Everything in that one room had been charred – along with half of the things in the rooms immediately surrounding it – and the firefighters could just barely find her after it all happened. They didn't like what they'd seen.

The next two were the Pleasures themselves. They looked like they didn't want to come at all – although they were the parents, so they were obligated to attend – and for a moment Alex thought they really looked half-dead, from the paleness of their faces to the empty look in their eyes. He wondered if he looked like that.

There was one more person there: a girl about Sabina's age that he didn't know. She looked Hispanic, with thick black hair falling down her back, and dark brown eyes that were red from crying. Sabina's friend, he reasoned, and looked back down at the ground just beyond his feet.

She's under there, he thought to himself, totally ignoring everything that the priest was saying. She's under all of that dirt. She shouldn't be in there, six feet under. She should be at her school, brushing up on some subject or other…

He couldn't bear thinking about it anymore. He let his mind drift away from his friend and back to home. I have to be back for my own school. If I miss any more school I'll be expelled, or worse…

After the service ended, Alex turned and started for the hotel he was staying at. Luckily, Jack had let him come alone. I can't stand funerals, she told him just before she sent him on his way. Besides, he was fine on his own –

A hand on his shoulder made him turn around. It was the Hispanic girl. She still looked upset, and the hand that wasn't on his shoulder was stuffed with tissues, but she was calmer now, not hiccupping under her breath from crying as she had been earlier.

"Are you Alex Rider?" she asked quietly. She had a slight Mexican accent. Alex assumed she was from southern California.

"Yes…" he answered warily.

"Sab talked about you." She looked down at her shoes. Even though Alex couldn't see her eyes, he was sure of what he'd find: pain, sadness, loss. "A lot. She really liked you, ya know."

"I know." Alex felt awkward, just answering all of her statements with thing she already knew.

"I'm Melanie Esparo. I'm one of her best friends. I was actually on my way to her house when it happened." She shivered dreadfully. "It was terrible. I wanted to run when I saw her…"

Alex said nothing, just stood there and let Melanie cry on his shoulder.

"But I didn't," she eventually said. She started to walk away, then stopped. She handed him an envelope. "You probably wanted to see her. I don't recommend it, but here you go." Then she left, walking the opposite direction back to her own home.

Alex stopped, ripping open the top of the envelope and taking a look at the photos inside. They were all slightly grainy, the quality that was in any picture that any regular person took with a mobile phone. He could barely tell that it was Sabina in the photo; she was covered in black, from head to toe (…hopefully in soot, Alex thought, but he didn't doubt that burned flesh might've accounted for it too). In one shot, she was being taken out of the burning house by firemen – one hand was over her mouth, covering a cough, so she hadn't passed yet at that point – and the next showed her on a gurney and being wheeled into an ambulance. The other photos only showed the ambulance driving away, leaving its passenger to an unknown fate by the viewer.

I could've helped her, Alex yelled to himself, walking along the side of the road toward his hotel. He stuffed the photos in his pocket. I could've been here. I could've saved her and she wouldn't be in this mess at all…If only I was here.

If only I was here.