The first person to hold my son after the nurse was not my husband.

The Vale manor was ablaze with crystal chandeliers and light when our car pulled up the winding stone driveway the following evening. Parked along the manicured lawn were luxury sedans belonging to county judges, corporate partners, and high-society board members.

Inside, the grand dining hall echoed with refined laughter, the clinking of champagne flutes, and the smooth jazz playing from hidden speakers.

Victoria stood near the marble fireplace, wearing a dark emerald velvet gown, holding court among three county commissioners. George stood two steps behind her, looking pale and frail in his tuxedo, sipping soda water.

I walked through the double oak doors wearing an elegant burgundy dress, holding Arthur securely against my chest in a black silk wrap. Ethan walked right beside me, his shoulder pressed against mine, his posture straight, his jaw set in stone.

The room went quiet as guests noticed our entrance.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed instantly. She smoothed her velvet dress and glided across the parquet floor toward us, her smile tightly fixed for the benefit of her audience.

"Ethan, Clara," Victoria said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "I didn't expect you to bring the baby tonight, dear. The noise is far too much for an infant with... sensitive health."

"Arthur is perfectly healthy, Mother," Ethan said. His voice didn't wobble. It echoed clearly through the vaulted room, cutting off several nearby conversations.

Victoria’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Ethan, let's not discuss domestic matters in front of our guests. Why don't you take Clara upstairs to the parlor?"

"No, Victoria," I said, stepping forward so that the soft light of the chandelier fell directly onto my son's face.

Arthur opened his eyes. In the bright light of the dining hall, his translucent gray-blue irises shone like striking jewels against his pale skin.

Several guests nearby gasped softly.

"Look at those eyes," a commissioner’s wife whispered behind her fan. "They’re extraordinary... but where did he get them?"

Victoria’s face turned white as chalk. She took a step toward me, lowering her voice into a dangerous whisper. "Clara, take that baby out of this room right now, or I will have security escort you off my property."

"She isn't going anywhere, Mother," Ethan announced loudly.

He reached into his tuxedo jacket, pulled out a stack of high-resolution document copies, and set them directly onto the center display table beside the towering ice sculpture.

"Ethan! What are you doing?!" Victoria hissed, reaching for the papers.