Chapter 20: Five Thousand Seats

My father was waiting at the side door of the convention center with four tickets in his fist.

He wore his only suit, and it was a size too big.

"The scanner doesn't care whose name is struck off the list," he said. "It cares about the bar code."

The young man at the gate scanned all four without looking at our faces.

Inside it was warm and loud and enormous.

Five thousand seats climbed away in the dark, every one with a glowing phone in it.

On the stage stood a white sofa, two plants and a screen the height of a house.

The screen said CREATOR WINTER SUMMIT, and under it, in smaller letters, BROOKE RUDDOCK: THE WHOLE STORY.

Row F was on the aisle, twelve rows back from the stage.

I sat between my father and Nolan, with Danny on the far end in the green coat, and Nolan's knee settled against mine and stayed.

I had spent a month learning that you can want a man's leg to stay put and also be afraid of what's about to happen.

"Is that her?" Danny whispered, and nodded at the front row.

My mother sat in the first seat on the aisle in a black cardigan with a pearl pin.

She had not turned around.

My father looked at the back of her head for a long moment.

Then he folded his hands over the notebook on his knee.

The lights dropped.

A tribute video played, with piano music, set to old home movies of two little girls on a porch swing.

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