CHAPTER 6: THE PARTY THAT KEPT GOING
Outside our private room, the birthday celebration had become a theater of whispers. Guests were collecting coats. Some asked whether the child onstage was all right; others pretended nothing had happened. Grant sent twelve messages in half an hour. The first said I had embarrassed him. The second demanded the drive. The third promised he would “be reasonable” if I signed the documents before midnight. Helena advised me to preserve them. Lenora left a voicemail claiming I had trained June to humiliate her father. I listened once and saved it. My mother took June to the car through a side entrance, away from curious eyes. When I emerged with Helena, Grant was waiting near the coatroom. “You made a mistake,” he said. “A public divorce announcement?” I asked. “Or giving our daughter a reason to fear you?” He lowered his voice. “You don’t understand what is at stake.” “Then explain it through our attorneys.” Camille stood behind him with the little boy, who was rubbing his eyes and asking to go home. Seeing him, I felt an unexpected pang of sympathy. None of this was his fault. “Take him somewhere quiet,” I told her. “He shouldn’t have been brought into this.” Camille looked away. Grant called after me, “You can’t keep my heir from his inheritance.” I stopped long enough to answer. “Your children are not pieces on a balance sheet.” Then I walked out. I would remember that sentence later, when the paperwork revealed exactly how literally Grant had treated them.
