Chapter Text
Garrus gives her eulogy; is the one to hold the placard with Gemma Shepard emblazoned indignantly. Everyone speaks, eventually, with a story to tell, a bittersweet anecdote.
She should not have died on Earth. She should have beat the odds one last time. The early moments of furious refusal had faded, and Mordin is left only with the aftermath of death too soon.
She had told him it had to be her.
Irony is only for the living. He’s still hopelessly tuned into a dead frequency, waiting to hear her again, to defy fate and circumstance.
He hears a gasp.