Gray would put up with a lot, but not an attack on his father. He smiled as he diverted the conversation. “I understand congratulations are in order. A new child?”

Clyde stiffened at the reference to the nanny he’d impregnated then accused of theft. Jedidiah looked at his son in surprise, and Clyde gave Gray a tight smile. “You must have misheard.”

Gray nodded in concession. “No doubt. Congratulations anyway.”

He scanned the crowd, glancing over the people loitering nearby, waiting for their chance to mingle with the grand old man of the packaged food industry. He noted their faces, trying to memorize everyone eager to follow the Magruder lead. The products coming from the Magruder warehouse probably outsold everyone else here combined, but at the cost of cheap fillers, misbranded products, and chemical flavorings.

The food industry stood on a cusp, and it was anyone’s guess where it would go in the next decade. Either the shortcuts pioneered by the Magruders would take center stage, or the Delacroixs would figure out a way to remain competitive with pure and genuine products.

He couldn’t predict the outcome, but with luck, he could use this weekend conference to turn the tide in his favor.

Annabelle had been reading the newspaper for Elaine ever since the blindness struck. That once-enjoyable task had now become a daily torture as she scanned the newspaper, desperately searching for news about Gray. Had they arrested him yet? Would that sort of story even make the newspapers? The government might handle it in a secret manner, and she’d never learn anything.

Elaine was reading one of her braille books when Annabelle arrived at their apartment with the evening edition of the paper.

“Keep reading while I find some stories of interest,” she said, hoping anxiety hadn’t leaked into her voice. She’d never told Elaine about spying for the government. She was ashamed of Gray and ashamed of herself. To the bottom of her soul, she wished she’d never been painted into a corner and asked to spy.

Her fingers trembled as she paged through the newspaper, praying she’d finally learn something but equally hopeful she’d see nothing.

Nothing. She drew a steadying breath. She had another day of reprieve. She flipped back to the front page and landed on an interesting story.

“All right, I’ve found something,” she said, and Elaine put her book aside. “It says here that David Fairchild has returned from abroad with over a hundred new specimens of fruit and edible cereal grasses collected for the Department of Agriculture.”

She’d heard of Mr. Fairchild, for he was the botanist who had created the plant exploration program for the Department of Agriculture. Annabelle continued reading the article, but it seemed Elaine wasn’t interested, as her fingers began surreptitiously scanning the pages of her braille book.

“Is this boring for you?” Annabelle asked.