There was a hush before recognition rippled through the crowd. She ignored the whispering and talking behind the hands and even the not-so-subtle finger pointing. As she walked to the front pew, she reminded herself she had a higher purpose for being there. Each time she clapped and said amen to her dad’s message, her eyes had roamed the crowds searching for Elijah. Verona spotted a blue-haired, lanky teen with double pierced ears. Her mother whispered, “That’s him.” What happened to the clean-cut kid in the pictures she’d studied all night? She wondered about the Smiths’ parenting skills. But, of course, Verona was in no position to say anything. She was the runaway parent, the absentee mom. She had no rights. She barely made it through the service before dragging her mom in tow. “Oh, I forgot to tell you he goes by Jah,” Louisa said. “Jah?” Verona enunciated the word like she was speaking Chinese. “Yes, he prefers to be addressed that way now.” Her mother pulled her forward.
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