The champagne fountain sparkled under the crystal chandelier as I stepped into the Riverside Country Club’s grand ballroom. I’d chosen a simple navy dress — nothing flashy, just appropriate for the charity gala I’d been invited to attend. The invitation had come through my investment firm’s community outreach program, and I’d been looking forward to a quiet evening supporting local causes.I should have known better than to expect peace when my family was involved. “What are you doing here?”My sister Victoria’s voice cut through the elegant chamber music like a blade. She stood near the registration table in a glittering silver gown that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent, her perfectly manicured hand clutching a champagne flute so hard I thought the stem might snap.“Hello, Victoria,” I said calmly. “I was invited to the gala.”“Invited?” She laughed — sharp, mocking. “By whom?The catering staff?”

Three women from her social circle giggled behind their hands. They all wore the same expression of manufactured surprise, as if my presence were the scandal of the century. “I have an invitation,” I said, reaching into my clutch.“Oh, I’m sure you do.” She stepped closer, her perfume overwhelming. “Probably printed it yourself at whatever little office job you’re pretending is a career these days. This is a $5,000-per-plate event, Maya.Do you even know what that means?”I did know what it meant. I knew exactly what it meant because I’d approved the pricing structure myself when the club’s board had consulted with me about the fundraiser. But I said nothing.Simply stood there with a slight smile. “Victoria darling.”Our mother’s voice rang out across the ballroom. Margaret Anderson swept toward us in a burgundy gown, diamonds glittering at her throat.