Celeste Harlow lowered her eyes as the applause grew.
I left my hand on Draven Vescari’s sleeve until the last few claps died away.
Then I stood.
“May I ask the question you agreed to answer?”
Celeste’s smile held, though her fingers moved higher on the microphone.
“I’m not sure this is the moment.”
“You’ve just named the shift.”
The host stepped toward her.
“We do need to keep the evening moving.”
“It’s one question,” I said. “The provider can answer it.”
At the front, the director rose.
The host looked between us, uncertain which interruption would be easier to end.
Celeste gave a small laugh.
“I didn’t realize a family recollection required verification.”
“You made it part of an award presentation.”
A few heads turned toward the glass flame.
I opened the program at the e
