She talked, and the audience ate her off their hands.
It was both delicious and terrifying.
I was sitting next to her, a little behind her — half a step, as an older brother should be, giving his sister her "moment of strength". The host smiled, the audience nodded, some clutched handkerchiefs, others made notes on their phones for future columns about "a young but persistent heiress."
I counted my breaths.
Every time her voice trembled — just a fraction of a tone-the audience only fell more deeply in love with her image. Every time she allowed herself to be tough, inappropriately honest for such events, where everything is wrapped in velvet and euphemisms, the audience froze. And listened eagerly.
She said "monster in the family album" and I felt something snap in the collective atte
