The military band struck up a sharp, driving march.

I stepped out from behind the curtain and joined the line of cadets marching down the center aisle.

The heavy, polished feel of a brass uniform button pressed into my thumb as I held my arm rigid at my side.

I kept my eyes locked straight ahead.

We marched past the back rows.

I didn’t look at Richard or Linda.

We reached the front of the auditorium and climbed the wooden risers on the huge stage.