“I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Why not?”
I gestured to my chair. “Kind of limits things.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Before I could respond, he stepped behind me and gently took hold of the wheelchair handles.
“Come dance with me.”
“Daniel—”
“Trust me.”
And then he wheeled me right out onto the dance floor.
At first, I felt eyes staring at us. My shoulders tightened. I almost told him to stop.
But he didn’t rush it.
Daniel moved with the music, slow and steady, turning the chair as if it were part of the rhythm. He didn’t make a big deal out of it or try to draw attention; he just danced.
And somehow… that made everything else fade.
I almost told him to stop.
I found myself laughing, actually laughing, as he spun me gently in a circle.
For the first time that night, I didn’t feel out of place.
I felt seen!
We stayed out there longer than I expected. Several songs were played, and we just enjoyed ourselves.
When we finally moved off the floor, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
I didn’t feel out of place.
“Thank you,” I said.
Daniel shrugged as if it were nothing. “Anytime.”
But the way he looked at me… it wasn’t nothing. There was something behind it. Something I couldn’t quite figure out. Either way, that night, he made me feel truly special, and that’s all that mattered.
***
The next morning, I woke up still thinking about just that moment with Daniel.
The way everything had shifted so quickly.
There was something behind it.
***
I was halfway through breakfast when a loud knock came at the door.
My Grandma walked toward it.
When she opened it, two uniformed officers stood on the porch.
“Morning, ma’am,” one of them said. “We’re looking for Lisa. It’s about a young man named Daniel.”
My stomach dropped.
