“I’m not going to let a ten-year-old clerical error destroy a foundation contract with your family.”

Sloane looked down at the paper in her hands.

She turned it over once more, studying the crisp purple ink of the postal clerk’s date stamp.

“It wasn’t an error,” Sloane said softly.

“You looked at the return address from the clinic and wrote the word refused yourself.”

“Sloane, we have three hundred guests sitting on the garden terrace right now,” Grant said.

Sloane slid the heavy platinum engagement ring off her left ring finger.