Jessica and Patricia returned toward their seats.
People made room.
Too much room.
Jessica noticed.
Now they knew.
That changed things.
A young Marine stepped aside and straightened.
Jessica caught his eye.
“Don’t.”
He froze.
“Ma’am?”
“No salutes.”
He looked confused.
Jessica gave him the smallest smile.
“Not today.”
He nodded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Patricia heard.
“You really came here to disappear.”
Jessica sat beside her.
“Yes.”
Patricia lowered her voice.
“Why?”
Jessica looked at the program in her lap.
A list of names.
Some familiar.
Some not.
“Because today isn’t about people like me.”
Patricia touched her hand.
“It can still hurt.”
Jessica looked at her.
Her mother’s voice softened.
“You don’t have to be invisible to remember them.”
Jessica stared at the page.
For years, invisibility had been useful.
Operationally.
Emotionally.
She had learned how to remove herself from stories.
Other people’s names mattered.
