“The trust agreement does not specify marital status at the time of birth,” Grace replied smoothly. “It specifies biological lineage. The DNA profile in your mother’s hand settles that.”

Adrian pulled his own phone from his tuxedo pocket.

His thumb tapped frantically against the screen.

“It’s a glitch,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “It’s just a temporary hold.”

“Try to transfer funds, Adrian,” I said, my voice steady and quiet. “Try to pay for the reception.”

He stared at his screen, his face turning a dark, mottled red.

“It’s blocked,” he whispered, looking up at his mother. “My primary account is locked.”

Margaret finally lowered her phone.

She looked at Adrian as if she were seeing him for the first time.

“You told me she had no proof,” Margaret said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low register.

“She didn’t,” Adrian said, his eyes darting toward the pews where the guests sat whispering. “She signed the nondisclosure agreement during the divorce.”

“The NDA covered your personal assets, Adrian, not your daughter’s birthright,” I said. “You cannot contract away the legal rights of an infant.”