CHAPTER 2: THE QUESTION NOBODY COULD UNHEAR
The ballroom fell into a silence so complete I heard the refrigeration motor behind the bar. Grant recovered first. He laughed, a brittle little performance meant for the guests. “June has quite an imagination,” he said. “Sweetheart, give me that.” She held the drive closer to her chest. “You told me never to touch your office computer,” she replied. “But you used my science-project folder.” I stepped toward the stage. “June, you don’t have to explain anything to these people.” Her eyes found mine. “I know. But I want you to know I didn’t make it up.” Grant moved quickly. I got between them before he reached the steps. “Don’t touch her,” I said. It was the first time in eleven years that I had spoken to him in that tone in public. He stopped. Lenora hissed that we were ruining her birthday. My father, sitting near the front, rose without a word and came to stand beside me. The event coordinator, an older woman named Denise, approached the microphone. “We can pause the program,” she offered. June looked down at the drive. “I made copies,” she said, so quietly that only those nearest the stage heard. Grant’s expression changed again. Not embarrassment this time. Calculation. I reached for June’s hand. “Come down, love.” She came willingly. The guests were staring, but my daughter’s small fingers were steady in mine. I decided then that the next thing she learned about courage would be that adults were supposed to protect children, not make them prove the truth in front of strangers.
