Vows for the Missing

How it begins

Alice found her wedding photograph behind the damaged plaster.

She had never been married.

The woman in the picture was wearing her coat.

She held the print by its edges and looked toward the chapel door. Thomas Vale was arguing with the builder about a drain.

"Mr. Vale."

"Thomas."

"You need to come here."

"Is it structural?"

"Possibly."

He approached with the expression of a man who had already paid for three structural surprises.

Alice turned the photograph around.

He took one step backward.

Outside, the wind struck the scaffolding hard enough to make its joints complain.

The photograph showed them beneath the chapel's east window. Thomas wore a dark suit. Alice stood beside him in her ordinary work coat, holding a small bunch of rosemary.

Someone had written a date on the back.

Next Friday.

"The solicitor gave you the proposal yesterday," Thomas said.

"I haven't accepted it."

"I know."

"You understand how this looks."

"Unfortunately."

The proposed marriage had sounded peculiar but legal. A historical restriction on the chapel trust required two married custodians. Alice needed the restoration work. Thomas needed access to records that might identify missing people. Both had solicitors. Both had insisted on the right to end the arrangement.

Neither had agreed to rosemary.

Alice examined the photograph again.

The plaster around its hiding place had been undisturbed for decades. She knew because she had spent the morning learning exactly how it cracked.

"Who else has a key?"

Thomas looked toward the builder.

The builder looked toward the door.

"The photographer," he said.

Alice waited for him to laugh.

He did not.

"What photographer?"

"The booking was on the schedule when we arrived."

Thomas took out his phone.

Alice looked back at the image.

In the east window behind them, someone had raised a hand against the glass.

There was no balcony outside that window.

There never had been.