The dress held its line when I moved.

Dark fabric, clean cut, nothing that asked for permission. I checked it once in the glass before the main room opened and then did not check again. The gallery lights were warm on the walls I had chosen. People came in dressed for culture and cameras. A press cluster formed near the first series, lenses already lifted.

Goodness! It was already suffocating.

"Katherine - how does it feel to open under the family's cultural portfolio?"

"Like work," I said. "The walls had to earn it."

A small laugh moved through the nearest reporters. My parents stood a few paces behind the line,...