She’s rewritten history to make it suit her, and no one here knows or cares. They really believe her, really believeinher. Even as they stare at her, no one questions or detects the mask.
When it’s over, there’s a standing ovation. I remain seated.
Ralston waves off the thunderous applause, her humility and pride warring on her face like clashing perfumes. They don’tsee that, either. They can’t. She’s very good at making you see exactly what she wants you to see.
Bell disappears from the table, out the door, but Dani lingers, waiting for Ralston to lead her out. I slip through the door as the crowd cheers, disappearing like Bell without notice. In the hallway, I wait. The exterior doors are propped open, letting in the warmth of the sun, which only makes it feel darker in the space I’m occupying.
I lean against the wall, feeling the cool plaster against my back and my head. I breathe slowly, trying to decide what to do next.
I know what Iwantto do, but it’s not time. If I want to confront Ralston, I have to have a plan. My evidence has to be undeniable.
Footsteps interrupt my racing thoughts. Ralston emerges, surrounded by a swarm of volunteers who assist her, wearing bright yellow lanyards around their necks, as she zips away from the crowd and out the door. At first, Dani is there, trying to keep up, but she’s quickly overpowered and outrun. She falls back from the crowd, stopping with her head down, still clutching her notecards in both hands. The professor who introduced her in the panel approaches and gives her a pat on the back.
“Great job in there.”
She smiles up at him, new life in her eyes. “Thanks. She makes it easy.”
Her words crawl down my spine like spiders.
I wait until they’re done talking, which takes only a minute, and then as they part ways, I move toward her, a plan forming in my mind.
“Dani.”
She stops. Turns around. Her eyes fall on my face, then away from me, like she’s sure it must be someone else who called her.
“Hi.” I move forward faster until I reach her.
Her eyes shift. “Um, sorry. Do I…know you?”
“Oh. No. I’m alum. Here for the event.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widen, taking me in, still obviously confused about why I’m talking to her.
“Great job moderating,” I tell her. The words burn my tongue. I want to say so much more.
She smiles, unsure. “Oh. Thanks. It was…not really my thing. She asked—Professor Ralston asked—me if I would, and I…couldn’t say no.”
“She probably counted on that.”
She tilts her head toward her shoulder, eyeing me. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, it’s just…she knows how to get her way.”
“I was happy to do it,” she says finally, defensive now. I’ve pushed too much already, though I’ve hardly done a thing.
“Of course you were. Who wouldn’t be?”
Again, she stares at me. “Right. I should probably get back to…”
She doesn’t finish her thought, just turns away.
I reach for her arm. “Wait.”
She jerks back, staring down at where I touched as if I burned her.
“I’m sorry.” I raise my hands. “I… Look, I only meant that I know what she’s like. When she wants something, she gets it. Even if it’s not what you want.”
“Powerful women take what they want,” she says, her voice soft and rehearsed. She’s heard Ralston say that as many times as I have.
