They saw the children first. Four identical faces, like a perfectly matched set.
Then they saw me.
I watched recognition ripple through the crowd like a stone thrown into still water.
Whispers started immediately.
“Is that Nora Vance?”
“The tech investor?”
“What is she doing here?”
“Are those her children?”
“Do they look like…”
I smiled serenely and kept walking.
The grand ballroom was decorated like something out of a fairy tale.
White roses everywhere. Crystal chandeliers. A string quartet playing softly.
At the front, near the altar, I saw him.
Julian Sterling.
He looked the same. Handsome in that effortless, expensive way. His tuxedo fit perfectly. His hair was styled just so.
He was laughing at something his best man said, completely at ease, completely oblivious.
Next to him stood his bride, Victoria, in a dress that probably cost six figures.
She looked perfect. Blonde, delicate, the kind of woman who had never had to fight for anything in her life.
And in the front row, sitting like a king surveying his kingdom, was Arthur Sterling.
He saw me first.
I watched his face change.
Confusion. Recognition. Shock.
His champagne flute slipped from his fingers.