Still—
he kept walking.
And I was almost the only person in that auditorium who knew why.
TWO WEEKS EARLIER, ETHAN TOLD ME HIS PLAN
It was after two in the morning.
Neither of us had been sleeping much.
Our house in Bellmere had been painfully quiet for weeks.
Not peaceful.
Empty.
Every room seemed to remind us that one person was missing.
I found Ethan sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea he hadn’t touched.
Across his knees was a piece of red fabric.
My stomach tightened the moment I saw it.
“Ethan.”
The whispering started before Ethan Bennett had even reached the principal.
Then came the laughter.
Someone several rows behind me didn’t bother lowering his voice.
“What is WRONG with that guy?”
My fingers crushed the graduation program in my lap
I was sitting in the third row of the Willowcrest High School auditorium in Bellmere, surrounded by hundreds of parents, students, teachers, relatives, and raised phones.
