Part Eight: The Toast

At about half past seven, the room went quiet and I heard a spoon on a glass.

The doors were propped open by then, because it was warm, which is the only reason I heard any of it.

“I want to say something,” Gertrude said.

“I’ve waited a long time to say it, and I’m going to say it badly, so bear with me.”

A laugh from thirty people.