The bowed head was gone.
The frightened maid was gone.
Monica Adams stood beneath the mansion lights wearing a floor-length white gown embroidered with thousands of crystals.
Her hair was swept back.
Her shoulders were straight.
Her gaze was steady.
Around her neck rested diamonds loaned by the publishing company for the evening.
The effect was devastating.
Someone whispered:
“That’s the maid.”
“No.”
Another guest stared.
“It can’t be.”
Katherine’s champagne glass slipped from her fingers.
It shattered on the marble steps.
Monica began walking toward her.
Slowly.
Not theatrically.
She didn’t need to.
A man exited the second vehicle.
Thomas Reed.
Executive editor of the National Herald.
He joined Monica and faced the crowd.
“Good evening.”
Nobody spoke.
“My name is Thomas Reed.”
He looked toward Katherine.
“The woman beside me is not your maid.”
Silence.
“Her name is Monica Adams.”
Katherine’s face went white.
