Calvin wouldn't have attended for his own sake. He recognized it for what it was: an empty publicity stunt. He'd said as much to his sister when she had announced (not asked) that they were going. But it's symbolic, Cal, she'd argued. Symbolic actions have value, too. And then she had proceeded to lecture him on the value of having progressive actions take place in full view of society, loudly and unapologetically, so as to inspire future change and build momentum — as though he didn't already know all of that. He allowed her to lecture, and he'd agreed to come along, even though it meant switching shifts with the other coroner to have the time free.

(Privately he was gratified that she had been so insistent. He would have been here even if his sister hadn't demanded it, despite his weak protests. There was a chance Tess Whitby would be here, and there was a chance she would bring her sister, and he wasn't going to pass that up. Without the excuse of his sister's enthusiasm he would have had to feign some of his own to explain his presence here).

It had been his sister's idea to try and talk to Mrs. Dempsey. Calvin would never, because it wasn't as though there was any mystery in what she was going to say. It had all been perfectly rehearsed, he was sure. She felt honored. Of course she did.

"— But not everyone can be a healer," he pointed out. His sister, a little starstruck with Mrs. Dempsey and probably content to take I'm glad as a reasonable response to her question, shot him a death glare.

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