It amazed Shirley how quickly they moved on. How easily a missing boy became a footnote in the rush to dress up and dance. She felt it as she adjusted her dress, brushed mascara through trembling lashes, and tried to smile for her parents’ photos. Richard should have been here tonight.
If things were normal, he would have awkwardly adjusted his tie and laughed at himself. He would’ve rehearsed small talk in his head. He would’ve asked one of those girls again, maybe, if he had found the courage. But instead, his absence felt like a bruise she kept bumping. Her parents told her gently, “Try to enjoy tonight, sweetheart.”