The ceremony began. The officiant spoke. Richard took both her hands in his and held them. She was present, completely, and then she wasn’t, because at the edge of her vision, the rear doors of the chapel shifted open. Someone was coming in late, moving quietly along the left-hand wall, heading toward the front, the family section, and the empty seat.
The stranger stopped at Daniel’s chair. He stood looking down at the photograph for a moment too long, as though something had rooted him to the spot. Then he sat, and with both hands, he carefully repositioned the framed photo on the ledge in front of him so he could still see Daniel’s face. Helen felt the floor tilt.