Chapter 11 - The Man Behind the Table Finally Looked at Me
I didn't let go of the microphone. My hand was sweating around it and my arm hurt from holding it up so long, but I kept both hands on it like Mom had told me to hold something fragile. The ballroom was too quiet. The chandelier buzzed a little over our heads and the fairy lights behind the DJ booth blinked and blinked.
Mr. Graham turned away from Vanessa and looked past me at the DJ booth.
"You," he said. "Step forward."
The DJ had been trying to disappear behind his table. He was a younger guy with short hair and a black button shirt with the sleeves pushed up. His laptop was open and the little lights on his mixer were still on, green and red. He glanced at Vanessa fast, then down.
"Sir, I—"
"What's your name?" Mr. Graham asked.
"Marcus, sir. Marcus Bell."
Mom shifted closer to me. Her hand rested light on my back, not pushing, just there. I could feel her breathing.
Mr. Graham pointed at the microphone in my hands. "Did this girl take that from you, or did you give it to her?"
Marcus swallowed. He looked at his hands. "I gave it to her. She asked. She said— she said you needed to see something."
Vanessa let out a sharp breath. "See? He let a child grab equipment. This is exactly why—"
Mr. Graham held up one hand without looking at her. He kept his eyes on Marcus. "Before tonight. Were you given instructions about the microphone?"
The fairy curtain swayed a little when the air vent kicked on. I watched Marcus's face get red.
"Yes, sir," he said quiet.
"Say it louder so the room hears you," Mr. Graham said. "Who told you, and what did they say?"
Marcus glanced at Vanessa again. I saw his jaw move. He breathed in through his nose.
"Mrs.— Ms. Vanessa's planner told me at sound check. No open mic. Said keep the night tight. And then—" He stopped.
"And then what?" Mr. Graham asked.
"And then Ms. Vanessa came herself, about an hour before doors. She said if the little girl in yellow came near, keep her away from the mic. Her words were keep the kid away."
My stomach dropped even though I'd already known. Hearing him say it out loud in front of everybody made my eyes sting. Mom's fingers pressed just a little harder into my cardigan.
"That's not—" Vanessa's voice went high. "That's a misunderstanding. I said keep kids away from the cables. It's a safety issue. Ask anyone. There are cables everywhere back there."
She turned and looked for her planner, but I didn't see anyone step up.
Mr. Graham didn't move. "You specifically mentioned the girl in yellow?"
"I mention a lot of details," Vanessa said fast. "I'm the bride. I'm managing a hundred things. He misunderstood."
"No, ma'am," Marcus said, and his voice shook. "You pointed. You said yellow cardigan. You said don't let her make a scene."
A sound went through the tables behind me, like everybody breathed at once. I didn't turn around. I kept watching Marcus because he finally looked at me, really looked, and he looked sorry.
"I told him not to," I whispered to Mom, but the microphone caught it and carried it. A couple people shifted in their chairs.
Mr. Graham nodded once. "Thank you for telling the truth now."
"I need this job, sir," Marcus said. "I didn't want trouble. When the screen went dark I just— I did what I was told before. I cut the aux."
"Who told you to cut it?" Mr. Graham asked.
Marcus hesitated. Vanessa stared at him hard. I saw her hands grip the lace at her sides.
"The planner waved at me," Marcus said. "Right after Ms. Vanessa yelled. I thought— power issue or I kill the input before feedback. I'm sorry."
Mom spoke for the first time in a while, low and steady. "Please fix it."
Mr. Graham looked at her, then at me. "You heard her. Restore it."
Marcus nodded fast and bent over his table. He flipped two switches and the mixer lights jumped. He pulled a black cable out, checked the end, blew on it like that would help, and pushed it back in until it clicked.
"Aux is loose," he muttered, more to himself. "Someone yanked it when the lights— hold on."
A man in a white shirt from the venue came quick from the side with a flashlight and knelt by the speaker. I heard Velcro rip and something thump.
"Input three's live again," Marcus said. He looked up at the big black screen. It was still dark, but the little white light on the bottom edge blinked on. "Projector's on standby. Just need the phone paired again."
He held out his hand toward Mom's pocket where her phone was. He didn't grab. He waited.
Mr. Graham turned to Vanessa. His voice was flat. "No one touches that cable again. No one touches that girl. We play the full file from the start."
Vanessa's mouth opened. "You can't be serious. You're taking his word— her word— over mine on my wedding night?"
"I'm taking the evidence over the interruption," Mr. Graham said. "Pair the phone. Play it all."
May you like
Marcus looked at me and gave a small nod. "You can keep holding it, kid," he said. "You're good on it."
I tightened my fingers around the microphone. The screen flickered gray, then black, then gray again, waiting.
