White Space Season 1

today, with the church holding a private friends and family service for each of the six victims of the school shooting. Later in the evening, the church was holding a mass joint service for the public. There were two dozen people in the church besides himself and Sarah’s sister, mother, and her nine year old daughter. Jon sat in the back, wearing dark shades and a black hat, which he’d used to avoid the press outside. The last thing he wanted was to have the press spinning this story and putting him into it, detracting from the tragedy and the memories of the victims. The memory of Sarah.
    His agent, Marty, had already informed him that they were getting calls seeking comment on the tragedy, simply because he’d lived there so may years. The press had also spotted him on the island already, so it was only a matter of time before the circus began. Marty suggested using Paladin Security to keep people away from him, as he’d had to do in a few prior visits, but Jon didn’t like to ask his family, who owned Paladin, for anything. “You might wanna consider. Especially once they find out that you and Sarah have a history,” Marty had suggested. Jon hoped to be off the island before those dots were connected.
    Every word from Pastor Avery’s mouth was a cold blade in Jon’s stomach.
    “Sarah Hughes was funny and warm,” the pastor’s hands were in the air. And though the pastor’s eyes met each person in the room, Jon felt as if they lingered particularly longer on him. “She was easy to talk to — a great listener — and so incredibly easy to like. Sarah loved teaching, cooking for her friends, talking on the phone, and growing her roses.” He smiled, as though remembering their scent. “The Abraham Lincoln was her favorite. Sarah loved foot rubs, the beach, and swimming. And she loved great food, especially Italian — the good stuff from the north — along with midnight snacks.” He patted his tummy. “Mostly ice cream.”
    Pastor Avery found Jon’s eyes and held them, Jon was certain he wasn’t imagining. “Sarah loved staring at the stars, pondering our place in God’s universe, and believing that the impossible kept itself just one good idea away. She loved the laughter of children, especially her daughter Emma, and every kid at Hamilton Island K-12.” He raised his hands in the air again, but locked his eyes on Jon. “Sarah Hughes loved everyone in this room.”
    The pastor held the moment, then lowered his arms and surrendered his gaze. Jon felt his own tears welling as the pastor began to pace the pulpit. “Sarah would never have called herself an intellectual, but I would have disagreed. She was whip smart, understood things in seconds when they should’ve taken minutes, and minutes if hours. She may not have known everything, but she knew all there was to know about being a good person, a great mom, and leading a wonderful life. Sarah Hughes is gone before her time, and will be forever missed.”
    Jon could see tears painting the sides of the faces of Sarah’s family at the front of the church; Cassidy, along with her mother, Vivian, and Sarah’s nine year old daughter, Emma.
    Pastor Avery continued. “Sarah pointed her life toward everything that was most important to her, and everyone in this room would have to agree that her aim was true. A mother to Emma and a daughter to Vivian; confidant to her friends and a guiding light to her students; a true blessing to her sister, Cassidy.”
    Jon was grateful for an excuse to stare at Cassidy, capitalizing on the opportunity. Though she was Sarah’s identical twin, the years had not been nearly as kind to her. While she didn’t look old, she was starting to look weary and jaded. She was still almost as beautiful as her sister, though, with long chestnut hair, green eyes, and Sarah’s porcelain, flawless skin. Jon felt as if he were looking at Sarah’s ghost, and a chill ran through him.
    Emma buried her face in Cassidy’s chest. Cassidy pulled her closer and held her tighter, as if proximity would keep herself from surrendering to tears.
    Pastor Avery smiled at Cassidy, waited for her to smile back, then continued.
    “Sarah will always be remembered by her students as one of the best teachers they ever had, by her friends as truly loyal and wonderfully funny, and by her family as remarkably strong. It has been a joy to know Sarah, from the time she was a tiny child through last Easter as an adult when she sat with her hands