She reached around Ruth and pulled the microphone from the stand, roughly, then stepped away and glared warningly at Tad and Ruth.

“None of us would be here without our mothers,” Marianne snapped, a little more harshly than she meant. “Mothers are wonderful, I think we can all agree, we owe them every gratitude. But our mother was an artist, like all of you, and she isn’t here to speak for herself or her experience or her … choices. This evening is after all about our students and their work, and we want to thank them, especially Donald and Janine. What wonderful, inspiring readings they gave!”

Some people stood, clapping heartily, while others looked around in confusion. She saw Sophie La Tour at the back of the hall, arms crossed and frowning. Davonte bowed his head as neighbors back-patted him. Janine left in a hurry, poem clutched to her chest, before anyone could reach her.

A great success, Regina called the Day of Inspiration, after Tad Tucker and his entourage drove away. Scrolling through messages on her tablet, she predicted that, once the story went live, they’d be able to open even more classes. “Of course, we’ll probably need to hire additional instructors, but think of all the free publicity we just got. Did you hear the excellent plug Tad gave the work you are doing here—not to mention independent, online education?” she asked. “Though I have to say it’s a shame that you didn’t let Ruth give her talk. She has become such a powerful speaker on this tour. You should have seen the standing ovation she got at our Institute of Christian Game Design and Videography.”

Ruth sat in a folding chair, massaging her left foot. She looked more like the self that Marianne knew: petulant, barely out of her teens, a pretend adult. Some of her hair had escaped from its bun, and her cheeks were flushed to her temples. “It’s hot in here,” she said. “Don’t you air-condition this place?”

“We turn it down between events and dinner, to save energy,” Marianne said. She was loudly dragging tables across the room, getting seating ready for dinner, and starting to sweat herself. “That’s part of what we consider being good Christians, being good stewards of the Earth. But I can turn the air on if it’s important to you.”

Ruth narrowed her eyes, scuffed her pump defiantly back onto her foot. “You don’t believe any of this. Regina, she doesn’t believe in any of this.”

“Hmmm,” said Regina, still scrolling through her messages.