“To new beginnings,” she said.

“To consequences,” I answered, and lifted my water glass, and watched her smile lose its footing.

At half past nine the master of ceremonies announced the parent dances, and Garnet crossed to our table and held out an impatient hand to his mother, the way you’d extend a hand to a task you wanted finished.

Before Hazel could rise, I touched her arm.

“Not tonight.” Garnet’s jaw set.