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I slide the ring onto my finger. The weight settles, familiar and unwelcome. Downstairs, the first guests are arriving. Thehum of voices carries up through the house like the sound of distant machinery starting up.
I straighten my jacket. I school my expression.
I prepare to walk into a room where everyone will be watching Marco.
And all I will see is her.
I don’t know if kindness survives power. I don’t know if the man she met at thirty thousand feet can exist in this world without destroying her.
Tonight, I find out.
I head for the stairs.
It feels like walking into a fight I didn’t choose.
