Madison’s lips parted.
“You’re being cruel.”
“No,” I said. “I’m being accurate.”
Her eyes filled then. They always did when accuracy failed to serve her. For a second, the tears almost worked. Not because I believed she was innocent, but because part of me had been trained to fix crying before asking what caused it.
My mother put her hand to her chest.
“People are watching.”
“I know.”
Madison’s voice trembled. “You’re really going to take my car in front of everyone?”
“I didn’t bring everyone into this.”
She looked over her shoulder.
Guests were pretending not to watch. A cluster near the bar had gone still. Joshua stood at the edge of the dance floor with his hands at his sides, face pale. My father had risen from his chair but had not taken a step.
Madison opened her tiny beaded purse with shaking fingers.
For a moment, I thought she might refuse. She wanted to. I could see it. But Madison was not used to paperwork being on the other side. She was not used to a demand that did not dissolve under emotion. She was not used to me standing still.
She pulled out the key fob.
It rested in her palm, sleek and black, with no visible logo because Madison had bought a custom cover for it to match her beige interior aesthetic.
“You’re going to regret this,” she whispered.
“Maybe.”
“You’ll be alone.”
That one landed closer than I wanted.
My mother watched my face. She knew exactly where the soft places were. She had installed many of them.
I held out my hand farther.
Madison slapped the key fob into my palm.
The plastic was warm from her hand.
I closed my fingers around it.
Somewhere behind us, the band began playing again, too loudly, as if sound could smooth over spectacle.
I picked up the folio from the cocktail table.
Madison stared at it.
“What are you doing with that?”
“Taking my gift home.”
“You can’t.”
I almost laughed.
“Watch me.”
I walked out through the glass doors. The night air touched my face, cool and damp after the overheated sweetness of the ballroom. The valet looked at me, uncertain.
“Ma’am?”
I handed him the key fob.
“Bring the white SUV around. I’m driving it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Behind the glass, Madison stood in her wedding dress, frozen between outrage and disbelief. My mother had turned toward the room, already beginning damage control with a smile so tight it looked painful. Joshua remained where he was, looking not at Madison but at me.
Our eyes met through the glass.
For half a second, I saw something in his face I had not expected.
Not blame.
Not anger.