The city mourned the loss of the pilots. Annabela Bianchi wavered through flower decorated alleyways. There was no hiding her despair. Two of her cousins followed from a distance, not daring to approach her. She cried so loud, so profoundly, it was painful to hear. She clenched a golden heart-shaped locket against her chest – her favorite gift. Renato had given her the memento many years ago and always insisted that she wore it. Within it, a small photograph of them and a lock of her hair.
***
“Dear friends. We are gathered here to pay our last homage to our cherished brothers. Sadly, their time to leave us and be remembered in history has come. It is with great grief that we see them leaving for their last flight. Rest well, brothers, you took good care of us and made us proud. May you watch over us still, from the far reaches of the afterlife.”
Annabela reached for the cockpit of the empty fighter. All fourteen Sabres were devoid of their pilots’ remains. She lingered at the top of the stairs admiring the vessel and smiled wryly and sobbed when she remembered her husband’s passion for those ships. She looked at the interior of the brand new fighter and noticed his name written in silver between the instruments and his decorations carefully placed. The fighter was fully outfitted. It wasn't a mere burial casket, but a true warrior’s vessel. Annabela stepped back down the stairs and kissed the ship’s hull. She then opened her hands and looked at the locket, wishing all her love would fit in there. She kissed the pendant and placed it among Renato’s medals on the pilot’s seat.
***
For ten nights straight Annabela was tormented by nightmares of Renato being captured, tortured and killed. On the eleventh night she succumbed to suffering and committed suicide.