I remember the specific quality of the fear in that moment, and I think it is worth being honest about it, because the version of this story where I am simply cool and unafraid the whole way through would be a lie, and lies help no one.

I was afraid.

A large, scarred man had positioned himself between me and the only door, and I was a woman alone, and there was real physical danger in that room, danger I had not anticipated when I put on my sunglasses that afternoon.

My heart was pounding.

My hands, holding that forged deed, were genuinely shaking, not for show.

What I want to convey is that courage is not the absence of that fear; courage is what you do while the fear is happening.