demanded the return of my inheritance.
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“You should have told me you were coming alone. I could have seated you with the photographers.”
“I’m fine here,” I said.
Dad laughed again.
“Still proud. Still pretending.”
An embarrassed wedding planner hurried over.
“Miss Hale, your seat is near the back.”
“Of course it is,” I said quietly.
Walking past the front tables, I noticed towering floral centerpieces, imported champagne, and gold menus embossed with Vanessa’s initials.
Every detail displayed extraordinary wealth.
My wealth.
Before she died, Grandmother
