Elijah walked slowly toward the doors, as if afraid that moving too quickly would fracture the thin shell of composure he still had left. Memories replayed in his mind—late-night sessions chasing the perfect harmony, grueling tours softened by shared jokes, backstage pep talks whispered moments before the curtain rose. He remembered her laughter, sharp and contagious, and the way she could silence a chaotic room with just a single breath before singing.
Inside, the hall had been transformed into a sanctuary of elegance and restraint. Towering arrangements of lilies and orchids framed the aisles, each bloom chosen for its quiet symbolism. Soft golden lighting washed over the room, creating an atmosphere that felt suspended in time. At the center hung a massive portrait of Dionne, captured mid-smile, her eyes bright with the warmth she carried throughout her life. Those eyes seemed to follow her mourners, as if still watching over them.
Elijah felt his chest tighten at the sight. Grief doesn’t always roar; sometimes it arrives like a slow tide, rising until you’re forced to acknowledge how deep the water has become.
People whispered softly, flipping through carefully printed programs, each page filled with photos and lyrics. Industry giants sat beside childhood friends. Protégés who owed their careers to her presence. Legends who had once stood in her shadow. Strangers whose lives she had touched without ever meeting them.
The hall filled with muffled sobs.
Then the doors at the back opened
A ripple of shock moved across the room as James, Dionne’s estranged son, stepped inside. His relationship with his mother had long been fodder for speculation. Rumors of arguments, misunderstandings, and emotional distance floated through the public sphere for years. Whether any of it was true hardly mattered now—everyone had their own narrative.
But the man walking down the aisle was not a headline. He was a son in pain. His steps were hesitant, his shoulders heavy, his eyes red from sleeplessness or tears—or both. He stopped in front of the giant portrait of his mother and stood there, silent and trembling. Nobody knew what to expect.
