ballroom doors.
“Amelia?”
She turned toward me.
“I need to get my stuff, Mom.”
I followed her, stopping near the doorway.
The entire ballroom fell silent when Amelia walked inside.
The unity table was still sitting near the front.
One large candle burned in the center.
There was empty space beside it where Amelia’s smaller candle had been meant to stand.
Ryan followed her inside.
“Sweetheart…”
Amelia turned around.
Everyone watched.
My parents.
Lina.
Ryan.
The photographer.
Every relative who had spent months telling me I needed to accept the
