Johann waited for Iris to leave before he exited as well. He needed a long walk in the snow followed by some practice time alone in the theatre to deal with the s****l frustration that had tormented him all night. He preferred to call his unrest that rather than guilt over what he’d said and the knowledge that Marie’s parting shot—that he needed to change, all of him—had hit home.
But what if he didn’t want to? What if he liked how he was? He’d gotten that message enough from his father and brothers, that he wasn’t good enough because he didn’t value the same things they did.
Consequently, when a rag picker approached Johann and tugged on his coat, he almost snapped at the girl. He caught himself and instead gave her a franc so she could at least get something to eat. She curtsied and ha
