[Reaction.]
It was clear who’s memory this was right away. There was Hannah looking sweet and excited, a woman who bore some resemblance to her doing her makeup. Were they sisters? Unlike everyone else attending the clock assembly, Dietre knew nothing of this event, he went into it blind, and it took him some time to put the pieces together that Hannah was preparing to be married. He saw the dress upon the mannequin and it was easy to imagine Hannah as a bride, angelic in lacy white. She was not married now, as far as he knew, and he couldn’t help but wonder what happened to end the union. Love was a mysterious thing to him, and he was naive enough to believe that it was always the basis for marriage.
Oblivious to Hannah’s family history, Dietre was clueless to the darker things happening under the happy facade he was witnessing. He watched the makeup artist hurry from the room at the arrival of the taxi and peered curiously out the window, but he did not understand what he was seeing.
Voices rising and falling, unintelligible aside from tone. An argument. Too far to make out the conversation, he turned away from the potential unpleasantness and back to admire Hannah. He thought her very pretty and hoped to see her in the dress even as a haziness began to fall over the scene. As ignorant as he was to the path awaiting the girl before him, he still had a bittersweet feeling. He barely knew her, but how could she not deserve a happy ending?