Inside lay a second bouquet.
Smaller than the first.
White roses.
Lavender sprigs.
Tiny blue flowers.
A satin ribbon wrapped around the stems.
But this bouquet had something different.
A small silver charm hung from the ribbon.
Mia lifted it.
It was shaped like a wheel.
Not just any wheel.
A wheelchair wheel.
Engraved across the tiny silver rim were three words.
KEEP MOVING FORWARD.
Mia stopped breathing.
I felt the air leave my own lungs.
Claire touched her cheek.
“I had it made for you.”
Mia stared at the charm.
“Why?”
“Because when I was planning this wedding, you kept asking me whether you could still be in the pictures.”
Claire’s voice cracked.
“You kept asking whether the garden had steps. Whether the bathrooms were wide enough. Whether people would stare.”
Mia lowered her eyes.
“And I hated that you had to think about any of that.”
Claire looked around the ballroom.
