Sarah Morgan - How To Keep A Secret

She walked to the front of the church. For once her back was straight, as if she’d finally accepted her height.

Since the night of the party she’d been even less communicative.

Lauren told herself it was natural for Mack to be withdrawn. She’d lost her father. Lauren had already found a grief counselor who specialized in teenagers. She intended to call her as soon as the funeral was over, and she couldn’t wait for that moment to come.

Lauren willed her daughter to have the strength to get through the next few minutes.

There was an expectant silence broken only by the occasional cough and a muffled sob.

Mack said nothing.

The silence stretched for so long that people began to fidget. Expectation turned to impatience.

Lauren felt a rush of fierce protectiveness.

Why had she allowed Mack to do this? She was sixteen years old. It was too much.

She was about to stride up to the front of the church like a mother hen reclaiming her chick, when the chick opened its mouth.

“I’m supposed to say a few words about my father.” Mack’s voice was clear and steady, cutting through the tense atmosphere of the church.

Lauren relaxed.

Her daughter had aced drama. She could do this.

“The problem is,” Mack said, “I don’t exactly know who my father is. You’d have to ask my mother about that. All I know for sure is that it wasn’t Ed.”

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