Kingston had built everything he had on the management of appearances.

Ione, in one motion, refused to manage a single thing.

She let it all be exactly as ruined as it was, in front of everyone, and walked out of the wreckage with her head up.

It was the bravest thing I saw any adult do that night, until she caught up with us in the parking lot and did something braver.

After that it was noise — chairs pushed back, voices rising, people choosing in real time whose side of the room to stand on.

Kingston turned and found me in the crowd, and his face was full of a fury that had nowhere left to go.