“That isn’t the same as being present.”

The accusation was so perfectly shaped around his own behavior that Evelyn almost admired it.

“You disappeared into that attic,” Daniel went on. “You stopped wanting more.”

“I wanted plenty.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything?”

For a moment, Evelyn heard every dismissal of the last seventeen years compressed into a single question. Why didn’t you do anything? She looked at the man for whom she had moved cities, hosted partners, managed houses, cared for his dying father, postponed her degree, edited his speeches, entertained his clients, and made herself smaller whenever his ambition needed more room.