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The Dance That Carried Forward
At seventeen, a car accident changed everything. Six months later, I went to prom in a wheelchair, not because I felt ready, but because my mother believed I shouldn’t disappear from my own life. I stayed near the walls, watching, certain that the night would pass without touching me.
Then Marcus walked over.
He didn’t offer sympathy. He asked me to dance. I resisted—people would stare, I said. He didn’t argue. He simply brought me onto the floor and moved with the music as if nothing about the moment needed explaining. For a few minutes, I wasn’t being observed. I was included.
That memory stayed with me long after the night ended.
The Years Between
Continued on the next page
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