When the church doors opened and Jason stepped inside, the tension in the room tightened instantly. He wore a black suit, his expression carefully composed—and beside him was a tall brunette in a fitted black dress, clinging to his arm as if she belonged there.
My mother sucked in a sharp breath. “Is he serious?” she whispered, gripping my hand painfully tight.
“That’s Rachel,” I murmured. I recognized the name from months earlier, when it had flashed across Lily’s phone. “The coworker.”
Heads turned. Whispers spread. Jason acted as though he noticed nothing. He guided Rachel to the front row—Lily’s row—and sat down, letting her lean against him like she was the grieving spouse.
