I want to propose a toast to my daughter, Sarah,” he began, his voice smooth, practiced. “She has always been stubborn, ever since she was a little girl with scraped knees. She always wanted what she couldn’t have. And today… well, today she insisted on marrying this boy.”

There was a ripple of nervous laughter. I saw Michael smile uncertainly, trying to be a good sport.

Then Robert Harrison turned his gaze directly toward my son. His eyes were cold, devoid of warmth. He added, “Let’s be honest. This kid is an idiot. He has nothing to offer a girl like Sarah. But my daughter insisted on marrying him, so here we are.”