Cricket played absentmindedly with her reading glasses. “When I married him, my greatest fear was failing him, not keeping up my end of the bargain to do, to say the right things. It never crossed my mind that he might fail me. Or you.” She touched her fingertips to my cheek. “I’m sorry you had to keep this burden. I just—had no idea. And I never would’ve asked...” She looked down to her hands, to the gold-and-diamond wedding band she still wore. She twirled it around her finger. “But this is his doing, isn’t it? Not just what he did at the end, but everything he did to us for years. Remember how each of us knew that he was having an affair, but kept it quiet?”

I straightened, knowing she was right. “Our loyalty to him was greater than our loyalty to each other. That’s not good enough anymore. So, no more apologies, full stop. At least when it comes to Gregory. We won’t give him that power anymore.” I cleared my throat, because there was more to my story, in particular how I had wielded my power. “After Atlas discovered that Gregory was funneling money back to the family, he asked me if I wanted to make the entire article go away.” Cricket raised her eyebrows. “I said yes. I wanted everything to go away. The article first, then, later, the tuition.”

“Ah,” said Cricket, as though she’d just stumbled upon a lost trinket. “There it is. I knew something was up with Atlas at that dinner. With you both, actually.”

I rose and went to Cricket’s dresser, started fiddling with her perfume bottles, perfectly arranged on a silver tray. “And I used our friendship as leverage against him, because I was scared of what the article might do to us, to our family.”

“Are you still scared now?” she asked.

I pried my eyes away from the perfume. “Are you?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Our loyalty to Gregory was greater than our loyalty to each other,” Cricket repeated. “I’m loyal to you. Let Atlas publish the article. Or don’t. Either way, I trust you.”