Renae’s chair sat empty across from me, a crumpled napkin on the seat.

She had no blood tie to this family.

She had been personally invited by Adelina, who’d championed her as a “vital contributor” to Warner’s new project — old college classmates, she’d reasoned, who ought to celebrate together.

When Renae had come through the door that evening, Adelina had seized her hands and called her brilliant and loyal, remarking how touching it was that even after years abroad she still prized her old friends.

I had stood off to the side through all of it, feeling like a floral arrangement placed in the foyer for ambiance.

And Warner had played his part flawlessly, serving me a portion of prime rib with honeyed concern.