Chapter 1 - The Girl Who Didn't BelongThe chandeliers of the Waldorf Astoria glittered like captured stars.
Hundreds of candles reflected off crystal glasses. Men in tuxedos laughed beneath paintings worth more money than entire neighborhoods. Women in diamonds moved through the ballroom as if they had been born knowing exactly where they belonged.
And then there was me.
I was nine years old, starving, soaked from the August rain, and wearing a coat three sizes too large.
My shoes made tiny wet sounds against the marble floor.
I had come to the gala looking for one person.
My mother.
I didn't know which was more frightening—the possibility that I wouldn't find her or the possibility that I would.
My stomach twisted painfully as the smell of roasted beef, warm bread, and chocolate drifted through the room.
I hadn't eaten since the previous morning.
I kept my eyes down.
But rich people notice everything that doesn't belong.
A waiter stopped.
Then another.
Whispers began.
"Who let that child in?"
"Is she homeless?"
"Someone should call security."
I wanted to disappear.
Then a woman stepped directly into my path.
She was elegant, silver-haired, and wrapped in a black silk gown.
Evelyn Whitmore.
One of the most powerful women in New York.
I didn't know her name then.
I only knew that her eyes were cold.
"How did this filthy child get inside?"
My throat tightened.
"I'm looking for my mom."
The room seemed to become quieter.
Evelyn lifted her glass.
"Children like you come here to steal."
I shook my head.
"I didn't steal anything."
She threw the water in my face.
The glass struck her palm as she lowered it.
Cold water ran down my cheeks.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then the room erupted.
Someone gasped.
Someone laughed nervously.
I stepped backward.
My heel caught the edge of a rug.
I fell.
My shoulder struck the marble.
And something beneath my coat slipped free.
A gold chain landed beside me.
The necklace spun slowly across the floor.
At its center was a blue ruby shaped like a teardrop.
Evelyn saw it.
Her expression changed.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
All the color disappeared from her face.
She bent down.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up.
"Where did you get this?"
"My mother gave it to me."
Her eyes locked onto mine.
"Who is your mother?"
"Sarah."
The necklace nearly fell from her hand.
Evelyn opened the hidden compartment behind the stone.
Inside was a tiny photograph.
A younger Evelyn.
Holding a newborn baby.
Her baby.
Her eyes moved from the photograph to my face.
Then to the tiny birthmark beneath my ear.
Her lips parted.
"Oh, God."
She dropped to her knees.
The richest woman in the room was suddenly kneeling in front of a starving little girl.
"You're Sarah's daughter."
I didn't understand.
Then she pulled me into her arms.
"My granddaughter."
She began to cry.
And for the first time in my life, someone held me as if losing me would destroy them.
But then Evelyn pulled away.
Her face suddenly became terrified.
"Where is your mother?"
I pointed toward the ballroom doors.
"She's outside."
I swallowed.
"She told me to find you before the men came back."
Evelyn's eyes hardened.
"Men?"
I nodded.
May you like
"Two men."
And somewhere outside the ballroom, tires screamed against wet pavement.
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