She picked up the microphone. She tapped it twice.
The music faded. The room turned.
She smiled at me.
She tapped it twice.
« I think someone should finally say what we’re all thinking. »
Russell went still across the table.
« This girl did not marry my son for love, » Deborah added, her voice clear and unhurried, perfectly comfortable at the center of attention. « She married him for our money. » She let that land for a moment, then laughed lightly. « I suppose spending a few years pretending to be in love is a great deal easier than spending a lifetime in a repair shop. » She smiled at the room with the ease of someone who has never once questioned their right to speak. « Some people are very talented at looking grateful! »
« This girl did not marry my son for love. »
Gasps moved through the room. A few people looked at their plates. A few looked at me.
I felt my face go hot. I felt my father’s hand tighten slightly on my arm.
