The corporate confidence he wore like a second, better-tailored suit cracked straight down the middle, and for one moment I saw the frightened, cornered ordinariness underneath it.

“I — I was just helping a younger child,” he stammered, and his eyes went, helplessly, to the binder in Audrey’s hands.

“Anyone would have — she was younger, she was scared—”

“You chose, Julian,” I said.

“On that bus, in front of everyone, on that bus, on camera, you chose.

I’m not the one who decided what you are.