The Gala That Could Not Wait
Alistair tried to move the confrontation to the estate.
That was his mistake.
He believed houses obeyed owners. He forgot that walls also trap sound.
By the time they reached Voss Hall, the gala had already gathered under chandeliers and glass, the guests waiting for the magnate whose sports car had been meant to make a dramatic entrance. Executives, investors, journalists, and old society patrons filled the reception hall with champagne and practiced laughter. Alistair entered with Theo, Camille, and Beatrice behind him, carrying the mountain dust like evidence.
Whispers began immediately.
A boy in a stained hoodie among tuxedos was not decoration.
It was disruption.
Alistair turned near the central staircase and lowered his voice. “We will discuss this privately.”
Theo looked at the chandelier light on the polished floor. He thought of his mother sitting at their kitchen table, sorting unpaid bills under a single yellow bulb while advertisements praised the engine she had designed. He thought of Alistair laughing on the roadside.
“No,” Theo said.
The word carried farther than intended.
Several guests turned.
Alistair’s face tightened. “Do not embarrass yourself.”
Theo lifted the photograph.
“I’m not the one who should be embarrassed.”
Beatrice inhaled sharply. Camille closed her eyes for half a second, not in fear but relief.
A journalist near the drinks table noticed the photograph and stepped closer. So did a retired engineer who had once worked with Camille. So did two young designers from Voss Performance, their faces curious before becoming wary.
The house began to assemble its own witness stand.
Alistair stepped toward Theo with a smile so controlled it looked surgical.
“Tell these people what you want,” he said. “Money? A training position? A name to attach to a fantasy?”
Theo felt every eye on his stained hands.
The public humiliation had arrived.
Not by accident.
By invitation.
Alistair meant to make him look like a roadside opportunist in front of the very society that had profited from Elara’s erasure.
Theo’s throat went dry.
May you like
Then Camille moved beside him.
“Before the boy answers,” she said, loud enough for the hall, “perhaps the company should answer first.”
