The baby shower was held at the Mercer estate, because Camille never did subtle after she discovered other people’s money. White roses swallowed the driveway. Blue balloons arched over the marble steps. A violinist played near the fountain, sawing sweetly through a song that sounded too much like a funeral hymn.
I arrived in black.
Camille saw me before anyone else did.
Her smile widened like a knife.
“Naomi,” she sang, crossing the room with one hand on her belly. “You came.”
“I said I would.”
Daniel stood behind her in a pale linen suit, his hand possessively spread over her stomach. He looked polished, proud, stupid. The kind of man who mistook silence for surrender.
“You look well,” he said.
“You look fertile,” I replied.
His smile twitched.
Camille laughed too loudly. “Still bitter? Oh, honey, don’t be. Life gives everyone different gifts.”
Around us, guests pretended not to listen. Daniel’s parents sat near the fireplace, his mother glittering with diamonds, his father watching me with the wary attention of a man who remembered I had read his contracts.
Camille leaned closer. “I hope this isn’t too hard for you. Seeing Daniel finally become a father.”
I looked at her belly.
“I imagine it’s hard for everyone.”
Her eyes narrowed, but then someone shouted for games, and she floated away, queen of stolen furniture and borrowed blood.
I placed my gift on the table.
A blue box. Silver ribbon. No card.
For the next hour, I watched them perform.
Daniel kissed Camille’s temple whenever cameras appeared. Camille told the guests their baby was “a Mercer miracle.” Alistair stood near the bar, pale and sweating through his collar. Every time Camille laughed, his eyes jumped to Daniel, then to me.
There was my clue.
He knew I knew.
He followed me into the hallway after the cake cutting.
“Naomi,” he whispered. “Please.”
I turned. “Please what?”
His face crumpled. Alistair had always been softer than Daniel, which was not the same as innocent.
“It was one time.”
“Then you’re a very efficient brother.”
He flinched.
“She told me Daniel knew,” he said. “She said they had an arrangement. She said he couldn’t… she said they needed help.”
“And you believed her?”
“I wanted to.” His voice broke. “She said she loved me.”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“Did Daniel know?”
Alistair looked toward the ballroom, where Daniel was accepting congratulations like a prince.
“No.”
There it was.
Not a miracle. Not an arrangement. Just another betrayal built on vanity.
I opened my clutch and handed Alistair a folded document.
His eyes scanned it. His skin went gray.
“What is this?”
“A notice. Your father has been using company money to fund Daniel’s lifestyle and hiding it under consulting fees. Daniel signed false disclosures during our divorce. Camille helped move assets through her boutique account.”
“I didn’t know.”
