“I’m going to say this once, because I’ll never say it sober,” Nora’s voice said, loose and laughing on that balcony. “Dalton’s money is part of why I’m marrying him. But the real reason I wanted out of that house is my brother.” On the screen she stared into her pink drink. “They never aimed it at me, so I let them aim it all at him. I watched it for twenty years and called myself the lucky one. He’s the best person I know, and I’m a coward.” The clip ended. The lights stayed dim, and nobody in that hall moved. I had expected to feel victorious. I felt tired, and strangely careful, like I was carrying something full to the brim.
Dalton stood first. He did not shout. He looked at Nora for a long moment, touched her shoulder, and said, “We are going to talk about all of it, tonight, together.” He stayed beside her, which was somehow harder for her than if he had left. My father cleared his throat twice and found nothing to say. My mother lowered the napkin from her mouth, and for the first time I could remember, she looked straight at me and did not look away.
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