Chapter 2

I stared at the black coffin in the funeral hall.

My father-in-law was all about keeping up appearances when he was alive, but after he died, his own son used him as a stepping stone for his mistress.

If the Sinclair family didn't care about their reputation, why should I?

Soon, a servant brought over mourning clothes for Rachel and Truce to change into.

Margaret personally told Rachel to stand next to me, nudging me aside. "Rachel is Truce's mother and gives a boy to the Sinclair family. She's pregnant, so she deserves to be up front."

She then turned to Zayla. "Zayla, give your spot to your brother. Girls belong in the back."

The maid next to Rachel reached out and pushed Zayla.

Zayla stumbled, and the little paper cranes in her hands spilled all over the floor.

Truce was led to the front.

I stared at the hand that had pushed my daughter. "Go ahead, touch her again and see what happens."

The maid shrank back under my glare, but tried to keep up her bravado. "Mrs. River Sinclair, this is what Mrs. Margaret Sinclair wants."

Margaret raised her voice louder, as if she wanted the whole room to hear her. "Today, Dutton has a son to see Philip off. It's a cause for celebration. Anyone who gets in the way is unfilial."

More and more people gathered to watch the drama unfold.

I pinched my palm, and tears immediately streamed down my face. "It's Philip's funeral, and you let an illegitimate son be here. That's real classy, huh?

"Dutton, your dad has just passed away. I can't believe that you're already letting your pregnant mistress live with us at his funeral. How could you do this to him?"

With that, I collapsed.

My assistant, Charlotte Solomon, rushed over to catch me, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Oh no! Mrs. River Sinclair has fainted. Someone, get a doctor."

The funeral hall erupted into chaos.

The crowd surged forward, and Truce broke down crying, scared out of his wits.

Margaret screamed at me, "Quit faking it, River."

Charlotte stepped in front of me, her voice louder than Margaret's. "Mrs. Margaret Sinclair, Mrs. River Sinclair fainted, and instead of calling a doctor, you're accusing her of putting on an act?

"The only thing in that coffin is Mr. Philip Sinclair, not your conscience, right?"

A few guests lowered their heads, and someone cleared their throat.

Dutton was holding Rachel and didn't lift a finger to help me.

With my eyes closed, I heard Dutton murmur a low order to the servants. "Take River back to her room. The funeral goes on."'

"What about Zayla?" Charlotte asked.

Dutton paused for a moment. "She's a Sinclair, too. She stays to see her grandfather off."

I opened my eyes. "No."

My voice was soft, but it made Dutton's face darken.

"Are you done yet?" he snapped.

"Zayla's coming with me," I said.

Margaret let out a cold laugh. "She's a Sinclair, Philip's granddaughter. You think you can take her away whenever you want?"

Rachel, still sobbing, tugged at Dutton's sleeve. "Dutt, forget it. Don't get River upset because of me. Truce and I will go, if that's what Mr. Philip Sinclair would want."

Truce cried out, "Dad, I want to attend Grandpa's funeral."

The word "Dad" made everyone fall silent again.

Dutton's face grew colder. "River, if you take Zayla away, you'll regret it."

I steadied myself with Charlotte's help. "Dutton, I'm asking you one last time. Are you really going to let that kid stand in front of Zayla today?"

He avoided my gaze. "He's a boy."

His words hit Zayla like a dull knife, cutting right through her.

Zayla looked up at me. "Mom, am I not Grandpa's granddaughter?"

A few people in the hall looked away.

I crouched down and gently brushed the dust off her face. "You absolutely are, sweetheart. Anyone who says you aren't must be an idiot."

Margaret's face darkened in a flash. "River, how dare you talk back to me in front of everyone at the funeral?"

"I was talking about the ones who can't see straight." I scooped Zayla up in my arms. "Why are you so worked up?"

Charlotte almost burst out laughing, but managed to hold it in.