My daughter was frightened not only by what her father might do, but by what the people in a ballroom might think of me.

She had already learned the peculiar embarrassment that follows somebody else’s betrayal.

“I promise you something,” I told her.

“Whatever happens tonight, we will leave together.

And none of it will be your responsibility.”

We took the train downtown early so Grace could see the lake from the window.

She counted bridges and pointed out a mural she remembered from a school trip.

For twenty precious minutes, she seemed like a child again.