Every head turned. Rebecca’s smile tightened as I walked down the aisle holding a flat white box tied with a lavender ribbon. “What are you doing?” she hissed. I set the box on the altar steps and said calmly, “Open it. Everyone should see what I made you.” The photographer lifted his camera, and the groom, Nathan, slowly reached for the ribbon.

Inside lay a framed photograph of Lucy at six, laughing in a sunflower field, her patches bright in the sunlight. Beneath it was a handwritten letter. Nathan read the first line silently, and his face changed. Then he turned to the guests and said, “Rebecca, you told me Lucy was too sick to come.” The church fell completely silent.