Rachel waited by the glass double doors of the auditorium, holding my uniform jacket over her arm.

“They’re gone,” I said.

Rachel handed me the jacket.

She didn’t ask for details.

We pushed through the heavy doors and stepped back into the main hall.

The rows of padded seats were completely empty.

The cleaning crews hadn’t arrived yet.

Discarded graduation programs littered the aisles like fallen leaves on the polished wood.