PART 1 — The Applause

The applause started before I had both hands on the edge of the fountain.

My father, Graham Hart, stood beside me, straightening one cuff as he looked through the open ballroom doors.

“Stop sulking, Clara.

People are watching.”

“I’m trying to get my dress out of the water.”

“You’re making a scene.”

A few seconds earlier, I had been standing on the wet stone beside him, trying to steady one heel without looking at the guests.

Sophie was still inside with the photographer.

The band had stopped between songs.

Someone near the doors gave a small laugh at something my father said.

Graham touched my elbow.

Then he pushed me.

The water was cold enough to make my teeth meet.

My dress dragged against my legs, and one earring came loose.

When I surfaced, the laughter had become applause, scattered at first, then louder.

Graham leaned over the edge.

“See?