I called her back immediately.

She did not pick up.

I stood in that airport, holding my phone, my four daughters gathered around our luggage, and I felt the first cold breath of something enormous moving beneath the surface of everything I thought I understood.

I did not know, standing there, what Carmen intended to reveal.

I did not know that at that very moment, in the gardens of the family estate, caterers were setting up outdoor tables and floral arrangements and a great white canopy — that Beatrice had organized a grand celebration to introduce Selina and little Mateo to their entire social circle.

I did not know that resting on a velvet cushion, on a display table, was Arthur Sr.’s antique gold signet ring, the ring Beatrice planned to slide onto a small boy’s finger that evening, before all their friends, to mark him as the future heir of the Vance name.