“He said it was one of the reasons the divorce became so bitter.

He told me you had admitted it later.”

The air in the corridor seemed to change temperature.

“I never admitted any such thing.”

“I know that now,” she said.

“I can see four children in the next room.”

For the first time that evening, I felt something other than anger or caution.

I felt sorry for the woman who had been invited to build her future on a story that wasn’t true.