Not a sob.
Something deeper.
Grace wrapped her arms around me.
For several seconds, I let her hold me.
Then I pulled away and wiped my face.
“No more crying,” I said.
Grace stared at me.
It was the first time in years I had heard steel in my own voice.
“What did you hear?” she asked.
“Enough.”
I told her everything.
The papers.
The voting rights.
The trust.
The planned breakdown.
Grace’s face darkened with horror.
