"I did. God, I loved her so much..." He closed his eyes; he couldn't look at Rose, but felt her kiss on his forehead. He tugged the sleeve of his dressing gown over his hand and used it to wipe at his face, not caring if he was wiping tears, or streaked dirt or what.
He scrubbed at his eyes. "And Grandpa. And Gideon." Alex looked back toward the house. "Is Grandmama okay? God, I think I'm going to be sick again..." He pressed his forehead into his hands, trying to breathe.
There would be funerals. He wasn't even seventeen and he'd be burying his mother.