And I found, walking away from it through the cool rain, that I did not feel like I had destroyed anything.

I felt like I had stopped holding something up.

For years I had been the hidden support under their whole performance — the money that covered the shortfalls, the name that could be traded, the daughter who could be counted on to stay quiet in the shadows so the show could go on in the light.

I had been load-bearing my entire life, and I had never once been thanked for it, because a thing that holds up a structure is invisible by design.

Walking out of the Larkfield, I simply stepped out from under the structure.

What happened to it after that was not my doing.