Chapter 17: A Beautiful Email

The Beekman Foundation gala filled the ballroom of the Pierre with four hundred people in black tie.

I walked in on Maxim's arm in a gold gown cut for thirty-one weeks.

The room went silent, table by table.

Nonna came in behind us in her good navy dress, carrying her purse in both hands.

She had told me she would not leave it unattended with these people.

Margot stood at the head table under a chandelier, in pearls, with a flute of champagne in her hand.

She saw us and smiled.

"Maxim, Elena," she said. "How brave of you to come."

"We wouldn't miss it," I said.

She gave her speech at nine.

She stood at the lectern and thanked the donors, and spoke warmly about children and the families who lose them.

Her voice shook in all the right places.

"A mother's love doesn't stop," she said. "Even when the world calls her unfit."

Half the room looked at me.

I looked at the technician behind the sound desk at the back, and he nodded once.

"Thank you, Margot," Maxim said, and rose from our table.

He walked to the front before anyone understood what he was doing.

"I'd like to add something," he said.

Margot's smile held.

"Of course, darling. Everyone, my former husband."

"My daughter's name was Katya," Maxim said.

Four hundred people went still.

"She lived eleven weeks. I have never said her name in public, and I'm saying it now because someone in this room has been using her."

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