only searching faces. It was not a verdict, and Lydia knew it. But Mrs. Hollis called for the board to suspend Wetherell's authority until an independent examination could be completed. One trustee agreed, then another. The assembly that had been arranged to honor its president became the evening on which he lost the power to forbid the questions.
Nathaniel could have stopped after presenting his father's letter. Instead he faced the room and admitted that he had known enough, years earlier, to demand an investigation and had remained silent. "I was afraid of losing my name," he said. "Daniel Bellamy lost his while I stood by and watched." Lydia looked at him then, really looked, and saw no expectation of reward in his expression. He was not asking the room to admire his repentance. He was placing his own reputation alongside the evidence and accepting whatever followed. Wetherell left the platform escorted by two trustees, protesting that all of them would regret this insult. No one applauded his departure. The silence that followed was neither triumphant nor comfortable. It was the sound of people beginning to understand how much their certainty had cost.
Later, when guests began talking again, Lydia escaped into the portrait gallery. Her father's letter was warm from being held so tightly. Nathaniel found her by the window, where moonlight lay across the stone courtyard. "I am sorry," he said, and she understood that he meant far more than the events of that evening. "I know," she answered. "I cannot tell you that it changes what happened." "I would not ask you to." She looked past him toward the ballroom. The orchestra was playing a lively country dance now, and someone had begun laughing again. Ordinary life continued with a speed that seemed almost cruel. "I loved you," she said. "I know that, too." "I do not yet know what to do with it." Nathaniel gave her the smallest, saddest smile. "Then do nothing tonight. You have done enough."
The investigation lasted seven difficult weeks. Wetherell hired lawyers and tried to discredit everyone who had spoken at the assembly. Nathaniel and Mr. Mercer gave formal statements, and the relief society employed an independent accountant to reconstruct the missing entries. Judge Ashford's papers proved that the original accusation had been knowingly false. The society withdrew its condemnation of Daniel Bellamy and issued a public declaration that he had not stolen its funds. Proceedings began to recover the money from Wetherell's remaining assets.