Spence had been right there in the center last year. But of course he’d been married then. The other named partners—and all five were men—each had his wife beside him. Did Spence feel out of place without Charlotte? I felt my heart seize up, cramping in my chest. Surely he hadn’t skipped out early.

But no. If Spence had left or no-showed, the daughter would have told the mother.

I’d tried to put the daughter out of my mind. Once I’d thought of her, it was hard not to look for her, even though the mother had warned against it, and there were hundreds of people here. I knew less than half of them.

Would she stand out? I thought so, at least a little bit. If she could blend, they wouldn’t need me. She would talk like her mother. Her dress would be wrong. A quick scan of the lawn gave me at least three possibilities: A silent thirty-something standing nearly invisible by a shadowed bench. An older, anxious blonde absentmindedly wringing her hands by the closest bar. A thin woman in a cheap blue dress standing silent at the edge of Mr. and Mrs. Aster’s circle.

My gaze slid away as if these women had been coated in Teflon. The compulsion to please the mother was strong, and she’d told me not to look for her daughter. I looked instead for Spencer, but he wasn’t up here.

I took the stairs down to the succulent garden. A huge buffet had been set up under the pavilion. Here were lesser clients, associates, and paralegals, all loading up plates with shrimp and tenderloin. On the stairs three young administrative assistants in recycled bridesmaid’s dresses hovered, whispering. I made my way through the throng, greeting people but never stopping. I could not get caught up in conversation.

My urgency was rising as the minutes flew. It was hard to stay cool and confident, hard not to run and shove, calling for him. My breezy smile felt tight, almost painful to hold. I could feel that ruined woman in Decatur, feel all the things she held, coming for me.

I pushed on, longing for Trey. With him I would be able to breathe. Under stress he got calmer and more focused. It was part of what made him an excellent lawyer. It was the thing I’d found so immediately attractive when he came up to me that day in the High Museum.

I’d put on an expensive floral sundress I’d borrowed from the costume room. My hair was in a sleek chignon to make me look older, and my makeup was subtle. My sandals were the giveaway, although I didn’t know it at the time. They were my own, knockoffs with too many straps. They wouldn’t have fooled Trey’s sister for a second, but Trey wasn’t looking at my shoes.