Music started outside.
Nathan straightened.
Then he held out his arm.
“Ready?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“That’s not right.”
I laughed through tears.
“I’m ready.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
The doors opened.
A hundred and forty people stood.
I saw Daniel at the front.
I saw Mom in the first pew already crying.
I saw Margaret two seats down.
Then I stopped seeing anyone except Nathan.
He started counting under his breath.
“One.”
Step.
“Two.”
Step.
“Three.”
I squeezed his arm.
He looked at me.
“Too fast?”
“No.”
“I practiced.”
“I know.”
Lena’s photographers moved quietly, one near the front, another catching us from the side.
Nathan never rushed.
Never forgot.
Never let go.
Halfway down the aisle, his mouth started trembling.
I thought he was going to cry.
Instead, he whispered, “Dad would’ve liked your dress.”
That almost finished me.
At the altar, he stopped exactly where Father Michael had told him.
Then, he released my arm and shook Daniel’s hand.
Daniel pulled him into a hug.
Then Nathan turned back toward me.
Except he didn’t go sit down.
He reached inside his jacket.
My stomach dropped.
“What are you doing?”
He pulled out a folded piece of paper.
I looked at Daniel.
Daniel looked equally confused.
Father Michael smiled.
Apparently one person had known.
Nathan unfolded the paper.
His hands shook.
Then he turned toward the congregation.
“I wrote something.”
A few people laughed softly.
Nathan looked down.
His voice shook through the first two words.
Then it steadied.
“Sarah is my little sister.”
He looked at me.
“Dad always walked with her when she was scared.”
I covered my mouth.
“Dad can’t do that today, so I did.”
The church was completely silent.
Nathan looked back at the paper.
