Chapter 2 - We’ll Be There
Marlo had paid extra to reserve the seats.
One for her father, Harold.
One for her mother, Elaine.
One for her younger sister, Camille.
The fourth was for her late grandmother, Opal, because the heart sometimes continues setting a place for the person who loved us best.
Opal had raised Marlo during long stretches of childhood when Elaine was too busy organizing Camille’s dance competitions and Harold was working late. She attended every school presentation, even when Marlo spoke too quietly and forgot half her lines.
“You don’t have to be loud to matter,” Opal used to tell her.
Marlo carried that sentence through two graduate programs.
She mailed the graduation tickets three weeks before the ceremony. Her mother confirmed they had arrived.
The night before graduation, Marlo called again.
“We’ll be there,” Elaine said. “You always worry unnecessarily.”
Marlo trusted her.
That was the mistake.
When she entered the auditorium in her black robe and cap, she checked the second row immediately.
Empty.
She checked again when the faculty procession began.
Still empty.
When the ceremony reached the first group of names, she texted Camille.
No response.
Then her own name was announced.
“Marlo Elise Prescott, Master of Science, with distinction.”
She crossed the stage while strangers applauded.
She kept her eyes toward the second row.
No one stood.
No one waved.
May you like
No one called her name.
The silence from those four chairs felt louder than the auditorium.
