Insurmountable grief SOLO

27th December 2021, Oxford
Mentioning Alexa Mackenzie's death and the newspaper article reporting it

It was only the day after Boxing Day, and Lucia was already bored. Briar was stuck into her homework (Lucia was procrastinating on hers), Willow was trying to solve the jigsaw she'd gotten for Christmas, and Ebony and Rosa were busy working, so Lucia didn't have anyone to spend time with. Even Alexa hadn't yet answered the owl Lucia had sent her at the start of the holiday, which was strange since she'd assumed the muggleborn would send her reply with the same owl - muggle households didn't have owls. So, Lucia did as she always did in times of boredom: she retreated into books. By now, it was mid-afternoon, and Lucia had already sped through the first six chapters of a novel which wasn't nearly as thrilling as the blurb had promised it would be when Ebony entered the room. "Lucia?"

Lucia looked up, startled. Wasn't Ebony supposed to be in the shop? Usually nothing save injury could tear Lucia's mother away from her post when she was working. "Is everything alright?" Ebony took a deep breath and that was when Lucia noticed the slip of paper in her hand. "Oh, did I get an owl?" It was unusual but not unprecidented for owls to try and get in the house through the front, which was always a problem when there were muggles in the non-magical area of the shop.
"No," Ebony replied shortly, and took another step into the room before closing the door behind her. Had Lucia done something wrong? The worried look on her mother's face was starting to make her nervous, so she closed her book and put it down next to her. "But I have something to tell you." Another step, and another, and then Ebony sat down on the bed next to Lucia. The Hufflepuff couldn't remember the last time Ebony had stayed for more than a few moments in the room which Lucia and Briar shared - she wasn't the kind of woman used to heart-to-heart discussions. "Alexa Mackenzie-" finally replied to my owl? "-is dead."

Wait, what?

Lucia blinked. "No." It was the first thing that came out of her mouth, one single syllable. It was all she could manage. "No?"
Ebony unfolded the scrap of paper and passed it over to Lucia. "I'm... I'm afraid so." Lucia stared at it for a moment, seeing the blurred edges of a newspaper article but not taking anything in. "I'm sorry, Lucia."
"No." A whisper this time, but the same word, stuck on repeat like a broken record. It was as if something inside Lucia, some clockwork that made her function, had shattered. She forced herself to focus, focus on the tiny print before her, and... and there it was. In plain letters that couldn't be misunderstood. Father and daughter... fatal road crash... local banker, Alexander Mackenzie, and his daughter Alexa Mackenzie. Suddenly, Lucia realised that a corner of the paper was wet, like something had splashed onto it. Was she crying? Her hand, of its own accord, reached upwards to touch the side of her nose, and met with a little droplet of water. A tear. Lucia looked up. "How?"
Ebony edged a little closer to her daughter. "A crash - you see - here-" But that wasn't what Lucia meant.
"How did you get this?"
"Oh." Ebony touched Lucia's hand. "A friend of mine, who lives in Inverness, sent it to me. She has a son who goes to Hogwarts - he must have recognised the name and known you were her friend."
Though she had asked the question, Lucia found herself tuning out, not listening to the answer. "No..." she mumbled again. It couldn't be true. None of it was true.
Ebony coughed. "Lucia, I know she was a mud- muggleborn, but I also know she was your best friend. I know what it's like to lose someone close to you." Did she? Had anyone, in the entirety of humanity, ever experienced anything that came close to Lucia's turmoil? "And you're my daughter and I love you and I'm here for you."
The paper slipped from Lucia's hands. It didn't seem to matter any more. None of it seemed to matter. She crumpled, leaning on her mother for support, and Ebony wrapped her arms around her as she sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed.