Chapter 4

The Hayes family dining room was a monument to old money—crystal chandeliers that had illuminated three generations, silver that gleamed with the polish of weekly maintenance, and an oppressive silence broken only by the clink of fine china. I sat rigid in my chair, back straight as Alexander had always instructed, while Eleanor Hayes's critical gaze swept over me like a searchlight looking for flaws.

"The Carmichaels' daughter just had twins," she announced, cutting into her beef Wellington with surgical precision. "Their third and fourth grandchildren. Lovely family."

The implication hung in the air. Three years of marriage and still…