CHAPTER 4: Vivian Reaches the Floor

Vivian dropped to her knees beside Maisie and took both tiny hands into her own.
There were red marks on the child's palms where she had caught herself against the floor. Crumbs clung to the lace hem. One silver shoe had come loose and lay near the easel like a lost prop from someone else's beautiful story.
'Look at me,' Vivian whispered. 'You did nothing wrong.'
Maisie tried to answer, but the breath broke in her throat.
Sebastian stood over them, already aware of cameras, donors, and the foundation chair watching from the far side of the room.
'Vivian,' he said, low enough to sound private and sharp enough to cut, 'this is exactly what I warned you about.'
She lifted Maisie into her arms. The girl clung to her neck, trembling so hard Vivian felt it through the navy silk of her dress.
For years, Vivian had learned to swallow replies before they became damage. She swallowed them at breakfast, at holiday dinners, during board receptions where Sebastian's mother introduced Maisie as Vivian's little girl instead of family.
Tonight, the old reflex rose and met something stronger.
Vivian stood, holding her child, and looked straight at Sebastian.