“Plenty of children in Rhode Island share basic physical traits.”

“He looks like your photograph from the brownstone opening seven years ago,” Sloane said softly, keeping her voice carefully controlled.

“The resemblance is unmistakable.”

“It’s just a curious coincidence,” Grant said, stepping between Sloane and the children.

“We should guide our guests toward the reception terrace.”

Rowan checked her digital watch again.

“The formal toast is scheduled for eleven fifteen.”

Grant turned away quickly and moved toward the open garden promenade, where fifty guests had gathered around three champagne bars.