I shake my head, thinking of lost potential, and Jonah walks away to make small talk with an usher. Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I step aside to let the person pass, but when the person says, “Hey,” I feel my worlds collide even before turning to match the voice and face.

“Jesus, Raymond. What the hell are you doing here?”

He’s wearing a suit, and Emily is next to him, wearing a black dress. She takes my hand, squeezes it gently, then hugs me around my waist. “We’re so sorry, Bobby.”

Over Emily’s shoulder, I ask Raymond again, “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“We heard about what happened. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Yeah, but why are you here?”

Emily releases me and returns to Raymond’s side. “We came to support you,” she says, earnest but maybe defensive, too.

I shake my head. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“We wanted to,” Raymond says, just as Jonah rejoins our party. He hugs Emily as Ray says, “This is what friends do.”

Instead of correcting him in public, I ask, “Can I talk to you in private, please?”

Jonah, whose arm is still wrapped around Emily’s shoulder, whispers, “Dad.”

So I whisper back, “Stay out of this, Son.”

Ray follows me down the left-arrow hallway, saying, “Bobby, we didn’t mean to upset you,” and he follows through the first open door, too, into this private chapel. “You’re going through some real shit, man, and you don’t know these people. We didn’t want you to feel isolated and, well, frankly, I’ve been worried.”

“You should have called first.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve called you half a dozen times. I’ve texted.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Ray stuffs his hands into his pockets. “What the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean? I found a dead body in my bushes and now I’ve got to convince a bunch of strangers that there’s no place else I’d rather be. That’s what is going on.”

Ray shushes me. “Dude.” He whispers, “Know your company.”

No one else is in the chapel, but he’s right. This isn’t the place. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, okay? It feels aggressive.”

He laughs. “Aggressive?”

“Inappropriate.”

Raymond raises his voice. “Who are you right now? Don’t tell me you’ve turned into a guy who uses words like ‘inappropriate’ to talk about loyalty.”

“Ray—”

“I always show up for you, Bobby.”

“That’s true,” I say, desperate to de-escalate.

“So? Do you need me to say it?”