She lifted the pitcher and set it down with a heavy thud, the ice inside clinking against the polished metal.
“We are keeping things intimate tonight,” Diane said, her voice sweet and distant.
I walked to the foot of the table where my placecard usually sat during these mandatory family dinners. There were only three silver-rimmed plates set around the table now.
The placecard bearing my name was gone. In its place sat a small, empty silver tray, cold and reflective under the dining room lights.
“Where would you like me to sit, Diane?” I asked.
“Oh, did we forget to tell you?” Diane asked, smoothing her green silk scarf once more. “We thought it would be best if you stayed in the study during dinner. We have some private family matters to discuss before the annual shareholder meeting.”
Brendan entered the room behind me, his heavy gold watch catching the light as he pulled out a chair for Jessica. He did not look at me.
“I see,” I said.
My hand went to my pinky finger, tracing the cold metal of the silver band. The small hope I had carried of raising my daughter with some connection to her father’s family vanished in the quiet of the dining room
