Her hand falls to her lap, limp. “Where is he?”
Avery hates himself when he has to shrug. “I don’t know.”
Before he can say more, the door to the monsignor’s office opens. The Nelsons file out, father, mother, son. None of them look at him as they pass. Not even Mike.
Sister Mary Margaret comes out into the hall. “Mr. Dendritch?”
Avery stands. “My parents aren’t here yet.”
But the nun stands aside, waiting. “Nice meeting you,” Mrs. Smithson says. She touches Avery’s hand, pressing her fingers into his palm. Her touch is warm, comforting. “I’m glad he’s got someone here. It’s hard for him to make friends.”
“I like him a lot,” Avery tells her. It’s the understatement of the year.
“Mr. Dendritch?” the nun prompts again.
This time Avery doesn’t argue. He lets her lead the way into the monsignor’s office. 2