“I don’t need to go to prom.”
A garment bag hung from the open door.
Her father’s police uniform.
She didn’t hear me come in. She was staring at the zipper with her hands hovering near it, not touching.
Then she whispered, so softly I almost thought I imagined it, “What if he could still take me?”
I stood there for another second before I said, “Wren.”
She jumped and spun around.