Then the organ music changed.
The processional began forming.
People stood.
I looked toward the rear entrance and realized leaving now would draw more attention than sitting quietly.
I should have moved earlier.
I knew that.
Instead, I remained in the last pew.
At one fifty-five, Lauren appeared.
White dress.
Pale flowers.
A narrow ribbon around her bouquet.
She looked beautiful.
Not because she wore expensive fabric.
Because her face held that strange mixture of terror and happiness I’d seen when she graduated from college.