She hesitated, then gave the same answer she’d relied on my whole life. “You always manage.”

“That doesn’t mean things don’t hurt.”

She pressed her lips together. “I was wrong to smile. I was wrong to let him speak to you that way. I was wrong to assume you’d always keep helping us.”

She looked at the bent crown in my hands. “I’m sorry.”

For the first time, I believed she meant it. Even so, I didn’t restore the grocery deliveries. An apology is measured by changed behavior, not restored privileges.

Months later, Gage finally reached out. The ethics review had made him examine more than company policy. One question from the required course had stayed with him: What personal story are you using to justify a decision you would reject if a client described it? That question took apart every excuse he’d been telling himself — that I’d refused the boat loan out of selfishness, that Kobe’s party existed only to show off, that frightening children was merely embarrassing me.