And Colette rushed toward me, clutching her pearls, her whole world upside down.

“Iris, please!

Families forgive!

Think of our reputation, think of — ” “You called me nothing,” I said.

“An hour ago.

In front of everyone.” “I was upset — ” “You watched your son hurt me in front of fifty people, and you raised your glass.” Her eyes filled with panic.

“What do you want from us?” And that question, strangely, was the thing that finally set me free, because for years I had wanted exactly one thing from these people, which was their respect, and standing there I understood, all at once, how completely worthless their respect had always been.

“I want nothing from you,” I said.