a continuation of my last drabble

The death was sudden; one evening she was fine, and the next morning she was dead. Cot death, said the doctor. Cause unknown.

They held the funeral a week later, and Hannah was numb during the service. How could something like this have happened? Hadn’t she done everything right? Hadn’t she been a good mother? She gazed ahead, thinking of every tiny thing that might have gone wrong, and it was then she saw her. The girl. Standing by the coffin.

The figure was familiar; Hannah saw her each time she wore that strange brooch she’d found online. Her daughter loved the brooch – used to love it. But Hannah wasn’t wearing it, so what was the girl doing here now?

The girl remained by the coffin for the rest of the service, following it out to the cemetery. She didn’t talk, didn’t make any sound, just stared at the wooden box. As the coffin was lowered into the ground and the funeral procession filed out of the gates, the girl stayed, eyes fixed on the newly-filled grave.

Each time Hannah went to the grave in the passing years, the girl was there. No longer whispering sins, just standing there, watching over the lost child.