No one in the Great Hall moved to call a server or clean up the spill.

Ethan stood frozen on the rug, his right arm still half-raised, his eyes locked on the four identical boys standing in a neat line beside me.

Natalie Vance stood two steps to his left in a dark emerald silk dress, her glass of sparkling water held motionless near her chin.

Her direct gaze moved slowly over my sons, taking in their matching navy blue wool coats that had cost two hundred and twenty dollars total and their four pairs of polished black dress shoes.

Across the Great Hall, Richard Caldwell turned away from the marble mantel, his silver cufflinks catching the amber glow of the fire.