She Was Sitting In My Front-Row Seat Holding My Novel — Smiling Like She Had Stolen My Life

Not enough for anyone else to call it collapse.

Just enough that the man beside him leaned over and asked if he was all right.

Celeste sat frozen in my chair with broken glass glittering near her ankle.

My book had slipped from her lap and lay face-down on the carpet.

It looked like a fallen verdict.

I did not look away from Graham.

He had once told me I continue reading …