The kitchen disappeared.
I was back on the prom floor, Caleb’s hand around mine, his blue eyes steady on my face.
Because I’ve wanted to ask for a long time.
Not after one good night.
I hope someday you don’t hate me.
The dance had never been a beginning. It had been a promise kept ten years late.
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“No.”
My mother reached for me.
“Mara.”
“No.” I backed away from the table. “No, that’s not possible. Caleb would have told me.”
Officer Hale lowered his voice.
“He tried.”
“When?”
Hale looked at Vivian.
Vivian closed her eyes.
Richard said sharply, “Enough.”
The fire marshal reached into his folder and removed several printed pages.
“These are copies of messages Caleb sent to his mother over the years.”
He slid the papers across the table.
My hands shook as I picked them up.
