“Now that,” she said, “is a proper ending for that ring.” I had lost a wedding, a relationship, and a comfortable, foolish picture of my own life, and I do not regret losing any of it, because all three had been built on something false.

Cruelty, I learned, rarely knocks at the front door announcing itself.

More often you invite it in, and hand it a key, and call its coldness strength, because it has not yet turned on you.

Real strength is none of those things.

It is not power, or status, or being the one whose name is on the paychecks.

It is being willing to stand up for the truth, even when the truth requires you to tear down, with your own hands, the whole life you thought you were building.

And it is knowing, as I finally do, that the word of an honest woman is worth more than every diamond in that box.