He nodded.

I could tell that was harder for him than any board presentation.

PART 11: The Price of an Apology

Nathaniel came to my studio on a Tuesday, after I invited him to see some of the work that had filled my life since the divorce.

Jonah greeted him politely but without deference.

Nobody there cared what surname he carried.

On one wall hung a photograph of a renovated community center.

Families filled the bright room, sitting beneath large windows where a dark, abandoned corridor had once been.