“I suspected there were things my grandparents hadn’t told me. I did not suspect this.”
He stepped forward. Mr. Wilson did too.
Darnell stopped.
“You made me look like a fool tonight,” he said.
Lenora stared at him.
“I didn’t shove myself.”
His mouth tightened. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” she said. “I do. You mean my pain embarrassed you more than your cruelty did.”
For a second, he looked almost pierced by that. Then his face hardened again.
“You think these people care about you? Vincent? The guards? Those rich donors? They care because you’re a Harrison. Without that name, you’re still the same scared little girl from Georgia.”
Lenora felt the words land.
Not as deeply as they once would have.
But they landed.
She looked around the apartment one last time, at the rooms where she had spent years trying to become easier to love.
