Chapter 1
The chandeliers were the first thing I noticed when he started walking toward us. They threw warm light straight down onto the checkered marble and made everything too bright to hide in. I had Sophie pressed against my side, her fingers twisted into the front of my olive shirt, and I could feel her shaking through the fabric. Helena stood a few feet ahead of us in her champagne gown, pearls catching the light, perfectly still the way she got when she wanted a room to watch her.
Roman crossed the floor in his dark suit, his hands visible and tattooed, his hair slicked back, moving slow enough that every table saw him coming. The guests near the round tables with the white linens stopped talking. A waiter froze with a tray half-lifted. I felt Sophie grip tighter.
My name is Nora.
It was just after eight and the charity gala was at full volume when I saw him. The band had paused between songs and the ballroom was that kind of loud-quiet where glasses clinked and people laughed too hard. Helena had taken us to the table near the columns because she wanted to be seen, and Sophie had been leaning into me because the crowd made her nervous. Then the space between the columns opened and Roman was there, walking across the polished marble like he'd been invited. Helena turned her head first. Her mouth made a thin line. She stepped half a step forward, not back, and said it low and sharp enough that I heard it over Sophie's breathing.
"I told you never to come here."
Sophie didn't understand who he was at first. She stared at the tattoos on his neck and hands, then at his face, and her whole body went rigid against me. Her stained light shirt had ridden up and I tried to smooth it without letting go. She looked up at me, then back at him, tears already running, her mouth trembling the way it did when she was trying not to cry in public.
"Daddy, grandma said you were dead."
The words hit louder than the chandeliers' hum. A woman at the next table put her hand to her chest. I felt my own breath catch and hold. I hadn't said his name in three years because Helena told me there was no point, that it would only confuse Sophie. I looked at Roman and my eyes went wide before I could control it. My voice came out smaller than I wanted, with a pause I didn't mean to leave in it.
"She told us your money stopped three years ago."
Helena didn't turn to look at me when I said it. She kept facing Roman, her shoulders back, her beaded sheer gown perfectly straight, the double strand of pearls sitting exactly where they should. Roman's gaze moved from Sophie to me, then settled on Helena. He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could see the pocket square in his dark suit and the way his chest rose slow and controlled. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. The guests had gone quiet enough that I could hear the soft scuff of his shoes on the marble.
He looked at Helena once, then again, longer, and his brow furrowed. I saw Helena's left cheek then, really saw it, because the light caught it at an angle. There was a reddish-purple abrasion spread across her cheekbone, raw at the edge, poorly covered with makeup that had worn off under the heat of the chandeliers. She'd been holding her head so the shadows hid it. Now it was just there, shocking against the pearls and the gown.
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"I've sent 50,000 every month. Tell me where it went."
The question landed and stayed there. No one moved to pick up a fork. Helena's eyes widened and her mouth opened a little but no sound came out. Sophie pressed her face harder into my side and I wrapped my arm tighter around her, feeling the damp of her tears through my shirt. Roman hadn't stepped closer. He was waiting for an answer, his hands still at his sides, breathing steady, letting the silence do the work. Behind Helena, near the columns, two members of the gala staff in black jackets started walking our way fast, and a man in a suit who I recognized as security reached for his radio. The chandeliers kept throwing that warm, diffused light down on all of us, and we were locked there on the checkered floor with everyone staring, waiting to see if Helena would speak.
