the whole morning.
I wasn’t bringing evidence.
I was bringing myself.
That was the one thing none of them had planned for.
First Grace seats around two hundred.
That Sunday, every seat was filled.
Extra folding chairs.
Cars on the lawn.
A paper banner over the doors.
Welcome home.
Hand-cut letters.
Ceiling fans moving two hundred bulletins like slow applause.
We entered during the second hymn.
June sat on the aisle in the front pew, oxygen line and Sunday pearls.
Marin and I sat directly behind her.
My daughter carried
