The tone was right.
Her words were well chosen.
Even the laughter that punctuated their conversation was well curated.
She held in check the throbbing, hurting truth that hid deep within her heart.
She clenched her fists and willed herself to relax and let the conversation flow.
Yet, she, the beast, could not be tamed.
It lashed out and crawled out of the grave of make-believe that she had buried it in.
When the ugly truth reared its head, she was terrified, then enraged, then finally at ease.