A murmur rose and broke and rose again. Fans stopped. The organ chord died mid-breath. Madison's green eyes found Ava's face and then the car seat and then Daniel, and the bouquet trembled once against the ivory lace.
"Who are you?" Madison asked.
Daniel's mouth opened as if a name could still be swallowed. The tuxedo suddenly looked like a costume for a role he had failed to rehearse. His voice arrived low, urgent, already defeated.
"Ava… don't."
Ava did not look at the priest. She looked at Daniel the way a person looks at a locked door they once had a key for.
"You told me I'd never have to do this."
Madison turned fully toward her groom, brunette waves shifting, the green of her eyes sharpened by something that had not yet decided whether to be fury or grief.
"Daniel, what is she talking about?"
"Madison, just give me a second."