I was only ensuring they would never respect the person who bore it.

Chapter 7 — The Phantom Empire

My mother-in-law, Beatrice, was a woman built of vanity and social optics.

At every family gathering she would hold court in the living room, wine glass aloft, and broadcast her son’s imaginary triumphs to anyone within earshot.

“My Christopher is an absolute genius,” she would declare.

“His enterprise is expanding so fast the poor boy barely sleeps!”

And I would sip my drink and offer a placid smile, and never correct her, because I never wanted to wound my husband’s pride in front of his mother.