"She was my sister." He answered.
One of them handed him shovel and he scooped a couple of sand over the coffin.
He handed the shovel back and just as he was turning to leave the grounds, a fist connected with his face. The groundskeepers shouted. "Hey!"
Pain exploded behind his eyes, bright and immediate. James stumbled sideways, catching himself before he hit the ground. Shouts rang out, boots scraping as the groundskeepers surged forward.
"Stay out of this!" Tom yelled. "He's my son."
The men glanced between them, uncertain. Tom stood rigid, breath coming hard. He turned enraged eyes to James. "What the hell are you doing here?"
James straightened. His cheek throbbed, but he refused to look away.
"I came to pay my final respects." He gestured faintly toward the grave behind them.
"How do you know who she is?"
"She contacted me years ago. Told me who she was." James answered.
Tom hit him once more. "You kept a secret from your mother and I."
