Someone somewhere was playing the harp. I strained to hear it. It sounded like rain on the roof of my grandparents’ porch . . . and yet the second I tried to pick out the piece, that cozy feeling evaporated. It turned into laughter. Tittering behind hands, a mocking sound.

I stared at the toes of my shoes.

Dad would know which piece it was. I had a ludicrous flash-image of him standing here listening. No wonder he’d ditched that Cloisters party way back when.

No wonder it all turned out the way it did.

A beat of silence fell around me and, looking back up to a wall of expectant faces, I realized someone must have asked me a question.

“Ruby’s studying the piano,” Nora answered, to a chorus of “Ooh!”

“I . . . ah . . .” Pain sparked in my chest. Please don’t ask. Please . . .

That thirty-something woman, Sarah, leaned in. “When can we expect a performance? At Amberley, maybe?”

My eyes lassoed Nora’s. The tiniest line formed between her brows.

She pulled me into a squeeze. “I’m secretly hoping I can talk Ruby into joining our ranks.”

“That would be a treat,” Lydia said. “For us, I mean.”

I breathed out.

“Are you interested in philanthropy?” Sarah asked me.

“Very!” The done thing. Still, it didn’t feel like a lie. “I want to make myself useful. If that makes any sense?”

They glanced at each other as if I’d recited their secret password.

“Quick smiles, ladies?” I turned to see a bald man lifting a camera to his face while everyone drew themselves sideways and taller. Two snaps and done. He asked Nora a question and she pointed to me and murmured something back that made him raise his eyebrows.

My name, I realized. All she’s done is tell him my name.

I was a person of note here. I had a gravity field, lovely things orbiting, glances and chitchat and tiny cakes on trays and everything nice. And why yes, I will have an oolong, thank you very much!

A clinking noise sounded behind us, and a short man in seersucker stepped out of the crowd to give a speech on the organization and everyone’s support and something about “legacy” directed at the older ladies in the crowd. It lasted two minutes, then the party resumed.

“That’s it?” I asked Nora quietly.

“That’s it.” She shrugged. “A reminder of why we’re here, and the river flows.” She floated her purse like a canoe. Then, abruptly, she called out, “If we reach fifty thousand dollars today, Stephen and I will be happy to match!”

A cry rippled through the crowd, then applause, the party’s chatter taking on a new pitch. The seersucker man looked like he was about to pass out from relief.

Nora linked arms with me. “And that is how you get it flowing faster!”

“You’re good at this.”