Her thick diamond rings clinked loudly against the thin crystal stem as she crossed the grass.

“Mon dieu, Vanessa,” Patricia said.

She pointed the rim of her wine glass at my cheap shoes.

“Who let this homeless woman stroll in off the street?”

“She snuck in past the front gate,” Vanessa said.

“She won’t leave.”

George stood a little behind his wife, looking bored.

He checked his heavy gold watch, frowning at its bright white face.