Lauren straightened. The smile was gone. She did not look at Emma when she spoke. She looked at David, and she spoke the way a person speaks when a room has become a jury. "David, she's grieving. Don't let her do this in front of everyone."
David turned his head. The movement was slight and somehow public, a hinge visible from the last pew. "Why are you answering before she finishes?"
Emma's mouth trembled and then set. She held the phone higher, not as a threat, as evidence. The screen was dark. She had not pressed anything since she entered. "Mom recorded it three days before she died."
"What does she say?"
Lauren's hand came out, palm up, the bouquet crushed against her dress so that a petal fell and stuck to the blue. "Emma. Put the phone down."