I tell you all this so you understand what happened. So you understand that when Donna did what she did, it wasn’t out of nowhere. It came from a lifetime of a woman who could not, would not, ever let anyone else have the thing she wanted.
Even a ten-year-old girl in a wheelchair.
The wedding was at a big hall out past the edge of town, a nice place with a garden and a ballroom with chandeliers. It was a beautiful day. Late spring, warm, everything in bloom.
Mia was beside herself with excitement. She’d been up since dawn. I did her hair in soft curls and let her wear a little of my lip gloss, and she kept checking herself in every reflective surface we passed, patting her curls, smoothing her lavender skirt.
“Do I look okay?”
“You look beautiful, baby.”
“Like really okay?”
“Like the most beautiful girl at the whole wedding.”
