Guests in tuxedos and silk gowns stepped out of my way, instinctively parting for a servant on a mission.
I kept my eyes locked on the head table at the far end of the room.
Victoria was seated next to Arthur Sterling, smiling beautifully as she spoke to the mayor.
But as I closed the distance, Victoria’s eyes flicked over my shoulder.
Her smile vanished instantly.
She stood up so fast her chair scraped violently against the marble floor.
“Security!” Victoria shrieked, her voice shrill and panicked, completely shattering the elegant atmosphere of the room.
The music stuttered to a halt.
Conversations died mid-sentence.
Every head in the ballroom turned toward me.
I didn't stop walking.
I reached the edge of the head table and stood directly in front of Arthur Sterling.
Arthur looked up at me, his weathered face etched with confusion.
He was much older than the photos my mother had kept, his hair snow-white and his shoulders slightly stooped.
As I looked down at him, my eyes caught something resting on the tablecloth near his plate.
It was the official welcome program for the gala, signed by Arthur himself.
I stared at his signature on the thick paper.
The ink was sharp, aggressive, and highly angular.
My heart skipped a beat.
I remembered the letter I had just pulled from the locked drawer—the letter ordering our exile.
That signature had been round, looping, and soft.
The signature in the drawer was a forgery.
Arthur didn't write it.
He really didn't know.
Victoria rushed around the table, putting her body between Arthur and me, blocking my view.
“Grab her!” Victoria yelled to the two security guards who were now rushing across the ballroom. “She stole a necklace from my room!”
“I didn't steal anything,” I said, projecting my voice so it carried across the silent room.
Arthur stood up slowly, leaning heavily on the table. “Victoria, what is the meaning of this?”
“She’s a thief, Arthur,” Victoria said smoothly, trying to regain her composure. “She’s disturbed. I’ll handle it.”
Victoria took a step toward me, her eyes flashing with a desperate, venomous threat.
“You embarrassed me tonight,” she hissed under her breath, loud enough only for me to hear.
“I only served dinner,” I replied, my voice perfectly steady.
“Girls like you stay invisible,” Victoria snapped, her face twisting into an ugly sneer. “If you know what's good for you, you’ll walk out that door right now.”
I didn't move an inch.
“Look closer, Victoria,” I whispered.
Victoria realized then that I wasn't going to run.
She realized I had the documents in my pocket, and that her entire empire was about to burn to the ground.
Panic made her reckless.
She stepped forward and swung the back of her hand violently, smashing it into the silver tray I was holding.
The heavy silver lid flew off the tray and crashed onto the marble floor.
The sound was like a gunshot in the dead-quiet room.
Guests gasped and stumbled backward.
A woman near the front dropped her champagne flute, the glass shattering across the tiles.