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Lili Marquette walked through the cemetery, admiring the peaceful way light trickled down through the thick canopy of old growth trees. She came to a stop in front of a small marker with her brother Andy's full name carved in formal block letters on the polished granite surface. She laid a single flower by the grave and tried unsuccessfully to blink away tears. Lili traced the name with her fingers and thought back to the day she lost him.
She had been coming home on a brief leave. It was just prior to the start of the S.I. War and the news was tense and grim. Her brother and father had a fight not long ago over Andy's refusal to join the military. Edward Purcell still considered it a slap in the face that Lili was a Marine, but at least she was a soldier.
"Andy?" Lili called, knowing her mother would not be home until that afternoon. The house was quiet and Lili set her bags down in the foyer by the heirloom Jefferson secretary.
After she carried her things to her old room and laid them on the bed she walked to the kitchen to get a soda. On her way she noticed the door to the study ajar and caught a glimpse of Andy's favorite red plaid shirt, the one their mother always threatened to throw away. Lili crept to the room intent to scaring the daylights out of her brother.
She eased open the door and carefully placed her foot on the rug to avoid the loose floor board that groaned with the slightest pressure on it. Andy was seated in the desk chair, but his posture made Lili stop in her tracks. She went to him, abandoning her joke and screamed his name when she saw he was dead by his own hand.
The Funeral had passed in a blur. All she remembered was that she blamed her father. She wanted to sever all connections to him. Lili went as far as legally changing her name from Purcell to Marquette, her mother's maiden name, and not returning his calls. Now there was another grave by Andy's. Lili placed a second flower on her father's grave and stepped back. Words choked in her throat and she had to walk away before she lost the last vestige of control to grief and regret.