The rain in Concord did not stop for my mother’s memorial.

It beat against the tall leaded windows of the Hart estate, blurring the garden lights outside.

Inside, two hundred people in black silk and wool stood under the crystal chandeliers.

I held a glass of water, watching the bubbles rise to the surface.

My mother’s portrait hung on the far wall, her painted eyes looking down at the crowd.

Graham approached me from the gallery corridor.

His tuxedo was tailored, his smile aligned, but his eyes remained dry.

Beside him walked Sloane, wearing a dark emerald dress that stood out in a room full of mourning.

She carried a sleek tablet in her hand.

“Claire, darling, you should see what we’ve put together,” Graham said.

His hand touched the small of my back, light and cold.

“It is the official launch of the Eleanor Hart Memorial Initiative,” Sloane said.

Her voice was smooth, carrying across the nearest circle of guests.

“We wanted to honor your mother’s legacy by expanding the outreach programs immediately.”

She held up the tablet, displaying a graphic of my mother’s face beside a large, high-resolution QR code.

“We are asking the major donors to scan and commit tonight,” Graham added.

He looked around the room, nodding to Vance Harrison, who stood near the fireplace with a glass of scotch.

Margaret stood beside Vance, her grey hair styled back, her eyes scanning the guests.

She had helped Graham draft the foundation’s new bylaws last month, and now I understood why.

“It streamlines the entire pledge process,” Graham said.

I looked at Sloane’s polished fingernails tapping the edge of the screen.

She was already taking credit for the design in whispers to a passing board member.

I reached into my evening bag and pulled out my phone.

“Let me see how it works,” I said.

“Just point your camera right here,” Sloane said, tilting the screen toward me.

The camera on my phone focused on the black and white square.

A small yellow link popped up at the bottom of my screen.

Instead of clicking the public landing page, I swiped to open the secure network tool Daniel Reyes had installed on my phone earlier that afternoon.