Russell’s face drained of color. He asked Jonah whether he was threatening him, but Jonah shook his head.

“No. I’m making a decision. You’ve spent this entire evening making yours.”

Russell finally crossed the ballroom and stopped in front of me. His hand trembled slightly, and for once, he seemed unable to find the polished words that usually rescued him. He admitted the place card had been cruel, that he had been wrong, and that he had confused appearances with worth.

I let his apology settle before responding. I told him my boots had helped build houses that men like him eventually sold for fortunes. They were not fashionable, but they had carried me through years of honest work. I had never needed a seat at his table or his approval. I had only wanted my brother to finish the life he had worked so hard to build.

Then I shook Russell’s hand, because my father would have believed in giving someone the chance to do better. Margaret quietly pulled out a chair for me at the head table. Around us, several guests who had laughed at the beginning of the evening approached one by one to offer their own apologies.