The World Never Ended novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Friday

I walked down the middle of the ballroom in my mother's coat and boots two sizes too big.

The violins went on for six more bars, and then one by one they stopped.

Two hundred people turned in their chairs.

Somebody said, "Is that Cora?"

Somebody else said, "She's dead."

"She was never dead," said a woman near the front, and I recognized her.

She was the one who had filmed me in the emergency room.

I gave her a nod.

Dean came through the tables to meet me, smiling, with his hand out.

"Cora," he said warmly, for the room. "We're so glad you came. Come and sit with the family."

"I'll stand."

"Honey, you're not well." He lowered his voice.

"Sit down quietly, and I'll put the baby in your arms in ten minutes. I promised."

"You promise a lot."

"Cora."

I stepped around him.

He caught my elbow and I turned and looked at his hand.

He let go.

I climbed the three steps to the stage.

A microphone stood on a stand in the middle, and next to it a small table with a glass of water.

At the side of the stage, in the dark, Shane stood next to the lighting desk with his arms crossed.

He did not smile or nod.

He lifted two fingers, which meant now.

I took the microphone off the stand.

"Good evening," I said.

The speakers made my voice enormous.

"My name is Cora Sandstrom, and I am the mother of the baby you came to celebrate."

A sound went through the room.

"I'd like to show you where she was born."

The screens behind me lit up.

The first image was a long gray corridor with a heavy steel door, and a number stenciled on it in black.

The second was a room with a bunk, a bucket and a camera in the corner.

I was on the bunk.

The date was in the corner of the frame.

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