At the burial, a raven settled on the girl’s casket. In an instant, the crowd was struck silent, their words vanishing into the air…

She needed us, and we didn’t see it, her mother sobbed. How could we not see it? Her father shook his head, his jaw tightening. She’s still here, he said firmly.

We’re not giving up on her. But as the night wore on, their hope began to waver. The doctors had no answers, and Mona showed no signs of improvement.

Her parents were left to wait and pray, clinging to the faintest sliver of hope. Outside, Onyx continued his vigil, his cries echoing through the dark. He flapped his wings furiously, as if trying to break through the glass that separated him from Mona.

It was as if he knew something that no one else did, a truth that remained hidden from the doctors and her parents. As dawn approached, the hospital grew quiet. Mona’s parents sat in silence, their exhaustion etched into their faces.

The doctors had done all they could, and now all that was left was to wait. And yet, outside the hospital, Onyx didn’t leave. His sharp cries pierced the morning air, a desperate call that no one seemed to understand.

The morning of the funeral arrived with an eerie stillness that settled over the village like a suffocating fog. The sun struggled to break through the heavy clouds, casting a gray light over the small cemetery where the service was to be held. Mona’s parents moved like shadows through their home, their faces pale and hollowed by grief.

Her mother clutched a black scarf in trembling hands, struggling to tie it around her neck while her father adjusted his tie with a vacant stare, his mind a thousand miles away. The coffin, small and white, was placed at the front of the gathering under the canopy of an old oak tree. A soft breeze rustled the leaves, but otherwise the world seemed unnaturally quiet.

Friends, neighbors, and distant relatives trickled in, their murmurs of condolences blending into the somber atmosphere. For many of them, it was hard to fathom the loss of someone so young, so full of potential. Mona had only just begun her life, and now it was over.

Her mother sobbed quietly as she sat on the front row, clutching a handkerchief to her face. Her father sat stiffly beside her, his hands gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white. Neither of them could bear to look at the small coffin in front of them where their daughter lay.

It felt impossible, unreal. They had watched her grow, seen her take her first steps, heard her laugh, and now they were saying good-bye forever. The funeral service began with soft hymn sung by the local choir.

The mournful melody hung in the air, weaving through the crowd and drawing tears from even the most stoic attendees. The minister spoke of Mona’s kind heart and bright spirit, his words breaking under the weight of the tragedy. She was a light in this world, he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Her memory will live on in all of us, a reminder of the beauty and fragility of life. Mona’s mother buried her face in her husband’s shoulder, her body shaken with silent sobs. He wrapped an arm around her, his own tears streaming down his face.

No words could capture the depth of their pain, the ache of losing a child so suddenly and senselessly. As the service continued, a shadow passed over the gathering. It was Onyx, the raven who had been by Mona’s side through everything.

He circled above the cemetery, his black wings cutting through the gray sky like a shard of obsidian. His sharp cries pierced the air, drawing the attention of the mourners. Some glanced up in confusion, wondering why a bird was making such a commotion during the funeral.

Others dismissed it as a mere coincidence, a wild animal unaware of the solemnity of the occasion. But Mona’s parents knew better. They had seen Onyx’s unwavering devotion, how he had followed them to the hospital and cried outside her window.

Now here he was again, refusing to leave even in death. Her father wiped his eyes, his gaze fixed on the bird as it landed on a branch of the oak tree above the coffin. The minister paused for a moment, glancing at the raven, but then continued his eulogy.

He invited the mourners to come forward and pay their respects. One by one, people approached the open coffin, placing flowers inside and whispering their goodbyes. Mona lay inside, dressed in her favorite pale blue dress.

Her face was serene, almost as if she were sleeping, but her parents knew better. She was gone. As they stood to approach the coffin, Mona’s mother clung to her husband’s arm for support…