Tears began to roll down my cheeks, warm, salty, unwelcome. I was angry that I would never be able to see Tony the way the others had, to hold the memory of him happy and smiling with me forever. Instead, all I could see were the images of him fighting the men threatening him, forcing him at gunpoint to do as they said, his panic, his attempts to save me. The sound of the gunshot pained me to my core, my eyes dropping, my chin touching my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut, scrunching my face in an attempt to erase the memories. But I couldn't.

All I could feel was pain, sadness, this was a layer to my grief that I couldn't comprehend, that I couldn't forget. I no longer could focus on the funeral service, all I wanted to do was escape, to run, to hide, to feel what I was feeling in a cold dark corner on my own.

My feet were prepared to move, ready to run when I felt the warmth of touch against my wrist, holding me, steadying me. My eyes shot open, the hand from Dawson, attempting to calm me. His thumb began to smooth out circles against my skin, comforting me. The motion gave me something entirely new and strange to focus on. My skin tingled, my breathing slowing to a normal rate. He barely knew me, I barely knew him, the skin to skin contact made me shiver, yet it felt nice.

Managing to the end of the ceremony, the crowd was directed to stand as Tony's brothers, brother in law and father carried his dark wooden coffin decorated in red and white roses down the center of the isle. I was relieved to have been able to stand, shake the blood back through my legs again, but the moment Dawson's hand fell from mine, I felt cold again, alone. Using a tissue Isaia had handed me, I swiped at the tear stains from my cheeks and eyes. I tried to think of a reason to excuse the way my body had reacted when touched by the detective standing closely beside me.

I had been with other men before, but this was different, this was comfort, this was kindness, this wasn't just the touch of a man who craved intimacy. I was overthinking the situation, but it beat the hell out of thinking about Tony and the way his life had been torn from those he loved.

Row by row, crowds were instructed to follow the coffin to it's final resting place in the small cemetery nearby. The fresh air that hit me once outside was a sigh of relief, relaxing me, giving me space to breath and recover.

"Are you okay?" Isaia asked as we walked forward

I nodded, not trusting my voice

He placed a hand in the middle of my back, the support from both strangers beside me catching me off guard. When my dad had died, I was alone, I had forgotten what it had felt like to be comforted and shown compassion.

With the help of cool fresh air and a moving environment, getting through the quick burial ceremony was thankfully easier than the funeral service had been. Tears were shed, emotions were raw, but it was over, and like I had hoped, I had felt better. Tony was at peace, wrongfully victimized, but he was home, he felt no pain. All I could feel now, was the ravaging need for his killers to be brought to justice, convicted and punished to the fullest for the tragedy they had so selfishly inflicted upon others.

As the mourning crowds began to hug, comfort one another and talk, a pamphlet invitation began to circulate, urging friends and family of Tony to unite at a local park in wake of his goodbye. I wasn't sure that I could do it, I had barely made it through the initial ceremony. I was tired, my head throbbed and my eyes burned. Besides, I had already enticed heavier police patrols solely on being at the funeral, I didn't want there to be tension at his wake, I didn't want there to be the threat of attack at a time that was meant to be in celebration of a life. This was where I came to terms with my loss and moved forward.

As we stood, Isaia and Dawson had been captured by other officers in conversation. I hugged my arms close to my chest and began following the sight of two ravens flying above. They cawed and flew effortlessly, not a worry in the world.

"Jasmine?" A gentle voice broke me from my stare

I turned to see Loretta standing beside me, her gaze puffy but her face composed

"Loretta" I lowly replied, off guard

Her dark eyes met mine with sympathy, her arms reaching me in an embrace. It had caught me by surprise, but I responded in the same manner.

"It's nice to see you here Jas" She pulled away, holding my shoulders, her soft stare roaming over my features, pausing on the scar on my hairline. She lifted a hand and gently she began to trace it "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry" Her voice was low

I shook my head "No, I'm sorry, I should have done something, I should have helped him, but I couldn't, I froze, I.." She cut me off with her fingertip briefly touching my lips

"This isn't your fault, don't you ever think that, you are as much of a victim as we are, as Tony is, you couldn't have stopped them, Tony couldn't have stopped them, this is not your fault baby girl, so please" She paused, her head dropping for a moment before lifting again "Please for me, you need to be strong, do not doubt your actions for a single second, okay?"

I nodded as she held my face in her hands, her eyes tempting to spill again "He always spoke so highly of you and your dad, you are family to us okay, don't ever forget that, if you need anything" She sucked back tears "You let me know okay?"

Again, I nodded. She gave me one last smile when she let go of my face, turning to the detectives behind me, watching on.

"Thank you for coming" She told them, shaking hands with both Isaia and Dawson

"We're very sorry for your loss Loretta" Isaia told her, genuinely apologetic

"Have we had any progress?" She asked, the golden question, the question that would only be asked a thousand times over until the men responsible were caught

"There have been little to no leads, I can imagine that anyone that has information about the case has probably been scared out of talking" Isaia gently told her

Just like I had been.

I was the star witness, the only reason I was still alive was because of Isaia and Dawson. I could only imagine the fear other people without protection could feel had they of known about what had happened to Tony and I.

Loretta gave a small nod, I could see that she had been disheartened

"But with the help of a sketch artist and Jasmine, we have two very detailed sketches of the men responsible, tomorrow afternoon both images will be released to the media" Isaia continued, attempting to give her a glisten of hope "We are confident that something, anything will come of the photos, the ability to call anonymously should also help with people too afraid to come forward"

"Thank you, all of you" Stray tears escaped her swollen eyes before she turned and moved back towards the direction of her kids.

I would see this through, I would ensure the two cowards that had destroyed this family would be punished. If it meant that my life would be on the line, then that's what I would have to deal with. I would face them in court, I would hold my head high when I sat across from them, revealing the horrors of what they had done to not only me, but Tony too.

Satisfied with my appearance at the service, I had asked that I be taken back to Hartley. The numerous eyes that continued to flutter in my direction upon discovering who I was, had become overwhelming. I wanted people to talk about Tony and the memories they had with him at the wake, not talk about me and the reminder stamped across my forehead.

Our first stop was dropping Isaia back to the station, the car ride mostly silent with Dawson and his partner only making small conversation, careful of what they said while I was in the passenger seat.

"I'm glad you were able to go today" Isaia told me as we parked in front of the quiet station

"Me too" I turned to him "Thank you, for pulling the strings you did, I know it wouldn't have been easy"

He shrugged "It was nothing"

Smiling, he stepped out of the car, retreating towards the building.

I leaned my head back in hopes of subduing the migraine pulsing through the backs of my eye sockets. I needed sleep, uninterrupted sleep.

"Are you feeling okay?" Dawson quietly asked

"Just a bit of a headache, I'll survive" I remained still, my head back, my eyes closed as the car hit the highway

The duration of the drive back to my Hartley home was quiet. Dawson didn't push conversation, and for that I was relieved. Usually I would have been all for it, unable to live through the awkward silence, but this time, all I could think about was the pain radiating through my skull.

Sleep had eluded me, and by the time we had returned to the cabin mansion, I was in excruciating pain. Dawson had helped me find painkillers before I had surrendered to bed in hopes of releasing the tension by lying in a dark room, awaiting sleep to take me.

Thankfully, by nightfall I had drifted off into the emptiness behind my eyelids. Relief.

Day 10. The next week had slowly crawled past. No news, no useful information from the media alerts, no leads. It was frustrating and the tension could be felt brewing inside of my body. I was becoming irritable.

In time, I had become accustomed to helping myself around the house. Most times I had learnt and found the confidence to cook, clean and laze when Dawson had disappeared, either to the shops, to town, or to work for a few hours. It was an odd feeling to be left alone, but that didn't stop Dawson from checking in on me every five minutes via a burner phone he'd purchased.

Sleep continued to be a problem for me, and I had attributed my fussy mood on the lack of rest. A continuous headache sat beneath my skull, every now and then throbbing to remind me of it's company. With the end of my Stephen Hawking book at a close, I found myself struggling to force the time away. From sunrise to sunset, the hours would drag as though I had been awake for weeks. My eyes were heavy, my muscles slow and weak, but the moment I would lie my head down, a slideshow of memories would intervene. I couldn't understand how my own body would betray me in such a way. I was trying to help my body, I was trying to make it feel better, and there it was, telling me no, forcing me in the other direction. I was angry at myself, reflecting if it was something I was doing wrong.

Today was a particularly nice day. The sun had decided to make a public appearance without the social gathering of her friendly and always near by, clouds. I hadn't been the only one to take advantage of the weather, many birds were out, splashing in the water of the lake, dipping their heads down before popping back up, shaking with joy. I sat on the deck, watching them, my feet hanging over the edge, toes inches from the calm waters surface. The radiating heat on my skin was sure to leave me with either a mild case of sunburn or a deeper shade of tan, either way, I didn't care.

Leaning downwards, I wondered how cold the lake would be. It was late afternoon, the sun surely having warmed it to a comfortable heated level. Brave, I shuffled my bare thighs forward, just enough so that my toes could feel the temperature of the water below.