The thought of walking into the dining hall alone made my stomach turn, but the sight of Jake, Lily, and Noah sitting at the table with an empty chair was even worse. They had been saving for this dinner for two months, taking turns at the hardware store and the clinic.
I reached out and opened the heavy door. The brass felt cool under my fingers.
The heat in the lobby hit me first, a thick wave of air carrying the scent of roasted garlic and melted butter. From the dining room, beyond the dark oak partition, came the soft hum of twenty different conversations.
A young woman in a black jacket stood behind the podium, holding a stack of leather-bound menus to her chest.
“Good evening, welcome to The Gilded Lantern,” she said, her smile fading slightly as she looked at my face.
I reached up and touched my cheek, which was damp. I didn’t realize I was crying until the warm air brushed my skin, making the cold wind on my neck even sharper.
