CHAPTER 5: The Easel Had Been Waiting

No one noticed the painting at first.
It stood on the easel Maisie had struck when she fell: an unfinished portrait of a woman in a blue coat walking a child through rain. It had been placed near the pastry stand because the gala auction team thought it was decorative, one more sentimental image for donors to admire between courses.
Vivian knew the painting by its hidden corner signature.
Elaine Rowe.
Her mother.
The Harrington Foundation had once been Elaine's refuge for young artists, widows, and children who needed safe places before the word charity turned them into stories for wealthy people. After Elaine died, the board folded her work into tribute dinners and tax language.
Sebastian wanted that legacy. Not the paintings, not the children, not the purpose. He wanted the voting control attached to it.
Vivian looked from the painting to the pastry crumbs on the marble.
The room had mistaken Maisie for a disruption.
It had not yet understood that the child had fallen beside the one object Sebastian should have feared most.
The easel had been waiting with Vivian's proof behind it.