Steven shook his head, his hand warm on my shoulder. “Maybe this is her way of reaching out, Rebecca. You’ve always wanted closure. Maybe this is the door opening just a crack.”

I hated that he was right. I wanted to be seen. I wanted, foolishly, to be family.

When Lorie heard about the party, her face lit up like the Nashville skyline. “Do I get to meet Grandma and Grandpa?” she asked, bouncing on her toes.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I whispered, forcing a smile. “Just stay close to me.”

I folded the invitation into my purse. I thought I was walking toward reconciliation. I didn’t know I was walking into the night that would shatter my world—and my daughter’s innocence—into a thousand jagged pieces.

The night of the event, the sky above Tennessee was a bruised violet, fading into an ominous midnight blue. We drove to Azure Hall, a venue that screamed pretension with its towering glass walls and gold-trimmed doors. A blue carpet stretched out like a tongue, inviting us into the belly of the beast.