Never Confuse Loud People With Strong Ones
“You refused your responsibility.”
“You tried to sell my life to a business partner,” I said, as even as a metronome.
A few guests at the next table shifted, suddenly fascinated by their silverware.
Griffin’s voice dropped to a growl. “Careful, Maren.”
“I’m always careful.”
My father’s jaw clenched as though he were swallowing a jagged stone. Then his eyes flicked to my wrist. The thin silver bracelet had slipped out from beneath my sleeve — plain, unpolished, engraved with a string of longitudinal coordinates that would mean nothing to anyone in this ballroom.