I heard the sharp bright shatter of a champagne glass giving up and breaking on the stone.

And I heard Tiffany begin to plead — that it had been six years ago, that she hadn’t known him then, that when they met at some charity gala two years later she’d had no idea I was his ex-wife until it was too late to say anything.

“Until when?” Mike’s voice cut across hers.

“Until you worked out that she was the woman whose baby you tried to sell?

And you just — what — decided not to mention it?”