CHAPTER 1: The Run Across the Ballroom

Leo Alden crossed the ballroom as if the marble were on fire.
He was six years old, dressed in a black tuxedo with a crooked bow tie and shoes polished bright enough to reflect the chandeliers. Behind him, the Alden Foundation gala continued for half a second before anyone understood that the child at the center of the family portrait was running away from it.
Servers stopped with trays in their hands. Donors turned in their chairs. The string quartet lost one clean note and then went silent.
Leo did not run toward his stepmother. He did not run toward the head table where his father should have been. He ran to the young server standing near the champagne tower, the one in a white shirt, black bow tie, and face already filled with alarm.
Mira Lane dropped the tray low against her hip before the glasses could fall. Leo reached her and buried himself against her waist with a sound too broken to belong in a room that expensive.
"Mommy," he cried.