Beside her, Dr.

Miller and three members of the county board were getting up from their linen-covered chairs.

Within fifteen seconds, half the guests in the ballroom were applauding.

Clare took my hand and pressed her thumb against my knuckles.

“They aren’t clapping for Gerald,” she said.

A waiter carrying a heavy brass tray paused near the kitchen doors, resting his load against the frame to watch us.

Gerald watched from the aisle, his gold signet ring resting against the back of an empty chair as his jaw tightened.