At St. Andrew’s Church, Michael barely noticed me.
But Sabrina leaned close during the photographs.
“I’m impressed,” she whispered. “I thought you’d stay home.”
I smiled for the camera.
“You still have a lot to learn about me.”
At the reception, hundreds of wealthy guests gathered beneath sparkling chandeliers.
Everyone seemed to know about the $22 million wedding gift.
Michael accepted congratulations.
Sabrina raised her champagne glass whenever someone mentioned the money.
Then the emcee stepped onto the stage.
“And now, the groom’s mother, Mrs. Beatrice Langford, would like to present the newlyweds with a very special gift.”
Thunderous applause filled the ballroom.
Michael grinned and gestured toward the stage.
Sabrina smiled triumphantly.
But I didn’t move.
Instead, I reached into my purse.
And held up the ivory note I’d found beside my pillow.
The applause faded.
Then I raised my other hand toward the edge of my silver wig.
Across the ballroom, Sabrina’s champagne glass froze halfway to her lips.
Her smile disappeared.
And as I slowly began lifting the wig from my head…
Her face turned completely white.
A gasp rose from the nearest tables.
I removed the wig completely and placed it beside the microphone.
Under the chandeliers, there was no hiding the irritated skin or the small red marks near my temples.
Michael took a step toward me.
“Mom?”
I could hear the confusion in his voice.
Then he saw the card.
