I was wrong.
Heads turned throughout the chapel. My mother lowered her eyes to her handbag. My younger brother, Caleb, avoided looking at anyone.
So I started walking.
Every footstep echoed more loudly than the piano melody filling the room. My eyes stung, but I refused to lower my head. Ethan shifted forward, ready to meet me halfway, yet I gave the slightest shake of my head. I needed to finish the walk on my own.
Just as I reached the middle of the aisle, the chapel doors behind me opened once more.
Thirty unfamiliar people entered together, all dressed in matching gray suits. Men and women. Young adults and seniors. Several wore small silver shield pins on their lapels. Without speaking, they positioned themselves on both sides of the aisle, leaving a clear path between them.
The pianist stopped playing.
One man, a tall Black gentleman in his fifties with a neatly trimmed beard and calm, unwavering eyes, approached my father’s row. Looking directly at him, he said, “Sir—”
