It was refusal.

And refusal, it turns out, can keep a body upright long after courage would have failed.

I have thought about that distinction often, because I think it matters, and because people use the word brave about that night in a way that does not quite fit what actually happened inside that vault.

Courage, as I understand it, is a kind of forward motion — you gather yourself and you charge at the thing you fear.

I did not do that.