The funeral was rough. No one had wanted to see Arthur go. No one had wanted to see him not come back. Everyone knew he was a good guy, and deserved the best in the world. He didn’t deserve to die.
The strangest part was Maggie. I knew the girl wasn’t normal. We all knew that she would handle grief in a unique way. But she loved the man. So, we knew there would be some sort of grief. We prepared for as many eventualities as we could come up with.
We didn’t expect a complete non-reaction.
The memorial was taking place in her living room so she wouldn’t have to leave the house, and it’s like we weren’t even there. Maggie came in and out of the room, looking for books or refilling her whiskey, but otherwise didn’t really interact with anyone or anything—just going about a normal day, like her boyfriend was often killed in battle and her friends were often celebrating his life while sitting on her couches.
Geneva says I should just leave it be. And I guess I will, because Geneva definitely knows more about this and about Maggie then I ever will. But—it’s just so odd to me. I guess I should just resign myself to never understanding.