It was the landmark birthday of Harrison Sterling, the prized heir of a family that defined West Coast high society. His mother, Beatrice Sterling, glided through the crowd with the confidence of a queen overseeing her court.
She stopped at every table to boast about her son’s technical mastery of the piano. Harrison sat at the center of the room behind a glossy grand piano, his fingers flying across the keys with robotic precision.
Every note was technically correct, but the music felt cold and lacked a heartbeat. The guests offered polite applause, yet no one in the room felt truly moved by the performance.
Below the ballroom, the kitchen was a frantic world of steam and the smell of roasted herbs. A catering assistant named Diana Vance adjusted her uniform while glancing nervously at the small girl sitting on a milk crate.
Her seven-year-old daughter, Rosie, sat quietly with a coloring book and a juice box. Diana had been forced to bring her along after her sister backed out of babysitting at the last minute.