Relief that the machine they had all been feeding, the one that ran on everyone’s polite silence, had finally been switched off by a hand braver than any of theirs.

They had all known, for years, that what Gene did to Holly was wrong.

Not one of them had lifted a finger.

And now a seven-year-old had done what a roomful of adults had been too comfortable to do, and I watched some of them realize it, and have the grace, at least, to look ashamed.

Gene lifted the folded white card out of the box with hands that would not hold steady.

Chapter 15 — What the Card Said