A Visit From Death
Nella appeared shrunken as she stood rigidly in the graveyard, her black dress swallowing her slender frame, eyes on the plain wooden coffin. She’d put the remains of the baby inside, along with all the items she’d knitted during the bombings.
Death hadn’t sent an invitation to meet, for there was no need. He’d known where she would be.
He waited in the in-between as the ceremony proceeded.
It was only Nella and a priest. Out past curfew.
There was no task for him there, for he’d already carried this child’s soul away.
He’d felt regret for the first time, the feeling coalescing in his chest. While the war raged across Europe, he’d been busy, taken his eye off her.
So many dead to collect. He hadn’t even had the time to read her articles.
The papers still sat in his cloak pocket.
The priest crossed himself, and they laid the dirt on top, one shovelful at a time, until nothing was left but a mound and a marker with the name “Baby Naoroji.”
Nella stayed long after the priest had gone, despite his warning about the coming airstrikes, staring at the headstone. She remained rooted to that spot, as if she could wait until the end of time.
Death appeared then, quietly, reflective, understanding a bit of what the loss meant to her.
Nella had written of Rohan, of his light, his intellect, of how he’d helped people despite the risk to his own health and safety.
Rohan’s death and the loss of that impossible child were among the heaviest burdens she’d borne.
Even Death, somehow, felt this despite all the reaping he had done.
He hadn’t meant to let this happen. Their bet was meant to erase Nella’s ability to have a legacy beyond her words for him. But it had happened. He had been occupied. And while part of the world had been tearing itself apart, her will and love only grew stronger than ever.
“You knew this was coming,” she said, her eyes fixed on the marker. Her voice was a dead thing.
“The end always comes. For everyone. Nothing you could have done would have prevented it. And you know as well as I do, this shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
Nella was silent for a long time, her thoughts clearly at war. This was the closest she’d ever been to giving in. He could sense it. He supposed he should feel victorious that she’d come closer to his way of thinking, and that this work would end soon.
“You mean, it’ll come for everyone except me.”
“For as long as you keep this up—yes.”
She turned to face Death now, her eyes burning in the dark like the candle she held. “Then why did it happen? Why allow me a taste of this feeling, only to rip it away? Did you think it would help you win? That you’d break me?”
The sharpness in her voice wasn’t of pain, but rather anger forged by the fires of loss and anguish.
“I wasn’t—” he started to say, but she reached into her pocket, pulled out a copy of her diary, and shoved it into his chest: no elaborate stories, pleas, or evidence.
“Read.”
Death stared at the book. “You still believe, then?” Strangely, he was not deflated at the news. He even felt the tiniest ping of satisfaction that their work would continue.
“Rohan was beautiful, and our child would’ve been too,” Nella said, eyes still on the grave. “Our time was beautiful. He’d hate it if I’d forgotten that.”
Death placed a hand on her shoulder, and she allowed it. They stayed like that for a bit as the wind whistled around them and the skies started to light up with German bombs. He would keep her safe here. Nothing would touch her.
When dawn came, he left without a word, for what was there to say? He watched her from a distance, wanting to be sure she’d return to the house without incident. He needed to collect the night’s dead eventually, but they would wait their turn.
Nella stayed at the grave well into the morning, looking as if she wished there were room for her too.
Her last words before leaving were whispered so softly that even he could barely hear, with her hand on the cold, hard stone. “‘The reality about the chord of love that binds you and me, dear, is known to my heart alone; and my heart ever abides with you.’”