The minister read from a thin black Bible, and the old furnace down in the church basement kicked on with a rumble through the floor.

When the minister turned them to face us, Megan found us in the second row.

She gave one small nod and looked away.

In the third row, Kyle’s mother blew her nose into a handkerchief.

Diane handed her a mint without turning around.

Outside the sanctuary, Megan caught hold of my sleeve before Diane and I reached the steps.

She twisted her new ring once, then stopped herself.

“Thanks for sitting where I could see you,” she said.