She sat at the funeral stony-eyed. Refusing to cry, to show any emotion. Even as they lowered her closest friend and only brother into the ground, she shed no tears.
They thought she was crazy, that she hated him, that she was glad he was gone.
They couldn’t be more wrong. She wouldn’t permit herself to cry for personal reasons, reasons they could never hope to understand. No tears would leak from her eyes until she was safely alone.
Alone in her room, where none could see her and try to reassure her. After today, she was utterly alone. Alone with nothing but six bracelets on her wrist and a conversation remembered from years ago —
“Why do you have so many bracelets on your wrist, little sister?”
“Six isn’t really that many, big brother. Seven would be far too many for this tiny wrist.”

And though the tears burned behind her eyes, she swallowed them back and remained emotionless. They could never understand.