The room stayed uneasy for several long minutes after Frank’s accusation. Murmurs spreading through the crowd. Gary attempting badly to steer the evening back toward its planned script. “Let’s not let one misunderstanding derail an important night,” Gary said, forcing his smile back into place. “We’ll address any questions about certifications after the demonstrations. For now, let’s continue.”
Tanner, desperate to reclaim control of a room that had just watched his credibility crumble in real time, scanned the crowd for something, anything that might let him seize the moment back. His eyes landed on Joe, sitting quietly near the back. Something ugly and cornered flared behind his expression. In his mind, in the version of events he had spent all week building, Joe Merik was the reason his whole world felt like it was tilting sideways.
She was banned. She was not supposed to be here at all. And now somehow her presence in that room felt like the final insult in a night already spiraling out of his control. “Actually,” Tanner said loud enough for the whole room to hear, pointing directly at her. “Maybe we should ask our former student what she thinks about real skill since she’s clearly decided the rules don’t apply to her either.”
Joe did not move for a moment. The whole room seemed to hold its breath along with her. Dana half rose from her seat, ready to say something before Margaret’s hand settled gently on her arm, holding her back. Walt sat perfectly still, watching Joe carefully, trusting her to handle this the same way she had handled everything else over the past two weeks.
“You’re not even supposed to be here,” Tanner said, stepping off the mat, moving toward the back of the room, microphone still gripped tight in one hand. “But sure, come on up. Show everybody what you showed poor Curtis. Unless—” and here his voice took on the old familiar edge, the one that had started this whole thing weeks earlier. “You’re scared, buddy.”
The room went very quiet. Joe rose slowly from her chair. She had not planned on this. She had not wanted any part of a public confrontation. Not that night, not ever, if she was honest with herself. But something in Tanner’s voice, something desperate and cruel all at once, told her he was not going to let this go. Not with an audience watching, not with his own credibility already unraveling in front of the people whose respect he needed most.
“I’m not scared of you, Tanner,” she said, walking calmly toward the front of the room. “I never was. I think you’ve known that for a while now, actually. I think that’s what this has really been about.” Tanner’s jaw tightened. Whatever plan he thought he had, whatever version of the night he had imagined walking into, was already slipping away from him faster than he could grab hold of it.