Her hair was damp, the hem of her coat was soaked, and cold water had found its way into one shoe.
She was approaching the bronze doors when a luxury taxi stopped beside the VIP curb.
Her father stepped out first, followed by Diane and Haley.
Haley held the gold invitation high enough to keep it away from the rain.
“This is going to look incredible in pictures,” she said as Diane adjusted her hair.
Clara’s father noticed her near the entrance and frowned as though she had appeared somewhere she did not belong.
Clara moved toward the doors, but he caught her arm.
His fingers closed hard above her elbow.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
Clara winced and tried to pull free.
“I’m going inside.”
“No, you’re not.”
He looked at her wet hair and rain-soaked coat with open disgust.
“You’ll ruin Haley’s pictures.”
Clara stared at him, waiting for the joke or misunderstanding to reveal itself.
Diane folded her arms beneath her umbrella.
“Honestly, Clara, stop trying to make everything about you.”
“I’m graduating today,” Clara said.
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