The Fortress at the Graveside

January 12, 2026 by ucef

ADVERTISEMENT

That was the man we were burying.

And I was standing there alone, holding myself together because someone had to.

“Poor Demi.”

The voice slid into the moment like oil on water. Sweet. Slow. Calculated.

“You look so stiff. So… dry.”

I didn’t turn my head.

I didn’t need to.

The perfume arrived first, thick and floral, clinging to the damp air like something alive. Gardenia. Heavy. Suffocating. A scent designed to announce itself before its owner ever did.

My sister, Vanessa.