MY MOTHER TOLD ME TO TAKE OFF MY MEDAL IN COURT
The first thing I noticed in that courtroom was the smell. Old wood. Furniture polish. Stale air-conditioning. And underneath it, sharp and floral, Chanel No. 5 drifting across the aisle from my mother like a warning flare. Genevieve Thorne had worn that perfume my whole life. It clung to church pews, gala napkins,…
