The next days all flew past as if they had never happened. Everything was a blur to Susan, from each day to the next. She seemed to remember sitting at the table with Anne and her obnoxious family all trying to tell her not to be so glum, that she could live with them now and have anything she wanted. She never even bothered to reply. It hurt too much to say anything.

At night (or was it the day? everything seemed like night now), Susan would replay the scene over and over again in her mind - the telegraph boy coming, the fateful envelope, opening it reading, seeing those terrible words over and over again. They couldn't be true, could they? But this was a telegraph - it was official. Why hadn't she pretended not to be? Why hadn't she thrown the envelope back at the telegraph boy without opening it. Then she would have never found out. But she would have had to find out at one point or another. Oh, why was life so cruel?

At the funeral, Susan sat with Anne's family in the first pew. She stared ahead, not seeing anything. It seemed to her as if she could hear the whispers from even the back row, cruel words that screamed in her head: "They say she hasn't shed a tear since she heard the news", "Such a terrible thing to happen to her at a young age", and "Poor, poor child." The words sailed and swept around her, but they didn't affect her. She would never feel anything again. Never.

Then came the time for her to walk up to the coffins. First, Father - dear Father, who had gone to war to protect them and their country. She remembered how he loved to laugh and joke so that even she and Mother would have to smile.

Then Mother - sweet Mother, who had cared for them all so dearly whether they were sick or well. She had slaved so long every day to keep their little house neat and tidy and to make meals and do whatever chore needed to be done. She had always been so patient and kind.

Then Lucy - dear little sister, who had always looked up to her as a big sister, to know what was right and wrong.

Next came Edmund - why had she thought he was a little brat back then? His face was calm and serene now. He would be asleep forever.

Last, Peter. Susan turned around as the first sob since she had learned of all their deaths rose in her throat. How could she have argued with him? They used to quarrel over the time over something that Susan thought was silly. What was it again? Susan couldn't remember as she walked back to her seat and sat down.

Her back was straight and her face emotionless. She was like a statue, immovable both physically and emotionally.