Maya touched Adele’s cheek.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“This is Adele’s wedding.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
Her eyes sharpened. “You always were good at making yourself look noble.”
My jaw tightened.
Adele looked at me over Maya’s shoulder.
Not yet.
So I swallowed the answer I wanted to give.
“This is Adele’s wedding.”
***
The ceremony started soon after. Adele looped her arm through mine, and for a second, I saw the girl from the stairs again.
“You’re squeezing my hand, Dad,” she whispered.
The doors opened, and everyone stood.
When we reached Jerome, he looked at Adele like he understood what she’d survived without making her explain it.
The officiant asked who presented her.
“You’re squeezing my hand, Dad.”
I opened my mouth.
Adele squeezed my arm. “The man who raised me does.”
The room murmured.
I kissed her cheek and stepped back.
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