I stood at the back of the crowd and listened to my own name vanish from her speech, clean and complete.
Then footsteps came from the rear door of the hall.
Someone had pushed it open.
Jeremy Vance led the way, an old tool bag slung over his shoulder.
Behind him came Liam James of the Cloudcrest Abbey restoration team and two staff members.
All of them still carried the dust of the road.
The host saw them and let out a visible breath of relief.
"Mr. James, you've finally made it."
"I was just about to announce that the restoration team was delayed by the mountain roads."
Liam nodded, but he didn't head for the stage.
Jeremy walked straight toward me.
Under everyone's eyes, he stopped in front of me and held out a folded gray work uniform.
"Ms. Swanson, the expert panel's confirmation documents have come through."
The noise in the hall gradually stopped.
"There's only one official credential for the final trial restoration of the north wall."
"Three years ago, the edge-zone stability testing you completed is the only complete set of original data still on record."
"The restoration team unanimously agrees to reinstate your final trial-restoration credential."
He held the documents out to me.
"The car's outside. You give the word now, and we leave tonight."
Julia Donaldson stood on the stage, the pages in her hand rustling faintly.
She looked toward Percy, and the smile on her face froze bit by bit.
"But hasn't the final roster already been confirmed?"
Liam lifted his head and looked at her.
"The roster in your hand is the promotional roster submitted by the image-interpretation group. It isn't the restoration team's trial-restoration roster."
The color drained from Julia's face.
"I'm in charge of project liaison. Why was I never notified?"
"Because you're in charge of liaison, not evaluating restoration credentials."
"The north wall isn't decided by who writes a few pages of material for whom."
Percy stepped up in front of me.
"Gladys, you can't just act on impulse—"
"This isn't impulse."
I took the documents from Jeremy's hand.
The edges of the paper were stiff, pressing into my fingertips.
On it were the expert panel's signatures, and on the very bottom line, my name.
For the first time in three years, someone had confirmed it in public.
I wasn't anyone's family member, and I wasn't a name left on a list as an afterthought.
Percy's gaze fell on the documents.
"You should at least have discussed it with me."
"We're married."
"Being married doesn't mean you get to decide for me."
He put out his arm to block my way.
"Conditions up in the mountains are rough. Your stomach—"
"The restoration team will assess my health."
Liam cut him off.
"Mr. Matthews, this has nothing to do with you."
Percy's hand stopped in midair.
Up on the stage, the host didn't know whether to go on, and Julia gripped the microphone tightly, the speech in her hand crushed into a mass of creases.
I glanced down at my own hand.
The wedding ring had pressed into my ring finger for three years, leaving a faint red mark along the inside of the band.
I slid the ring off and set it in Percy's palm.
The moment the metal touched his skin, his fingers snapped shut.
"Gladys."
I looked at him.
"It started the night you had me sit in the third row."
"Percy, I didn't come here as your wife."
