I looked at Madison, who was watching us now, her hand clutching her silver clutch bag too tightly.

Her knuckles were white.

I looked back at my father’s calm, blue eyes.

I did not take the glass.

Instead, I reached out and took his wrist.

My grip was firm, the way I had been trained to secure an asset or a suspect.

Richard’s smile did not falter, but his wrist tensed beneath my fingers.

“Natalie?” Carolyn asked, her voice rising in pitch. “What is it?”

“Do not drink that,” I said, my voice cutting through the sudden silence of the ballroom.

The guests stopped talking completely.

The only sound was the rain lashing against the glass behind us.

“Natalie, you are making a scene,” Richard said softly, his voice dripping with gentle concern.

“Something has been hidden in this room,” I said, looking directly at the glass in his hand.

I let go of his wrist and took a step back, keeping my eyes on him.

“And it starts with this glass.”

Colonel Hayes stepped forward from the edge of the circle, his eyes fixed on the champagne.

His gaze flicked from the glass to my father, then to me.

The air in the room grew cold, the silence stretching tight.

My father sighed, a small, sad sound, and looked around at our guests.

He lowered the glass slightly, but did not set it down.

“I think we all need to take a breath,” Richard said, his voice steady and soothing.

“Put the glass on the table, Richard,” I said.

Madison took a step toward us, her eyes wide with a sudden, sharp terror.

“Madison, stay back,” I said, keeping my eyes on my father.

My sister stopped, her hands clutching the fabric of her evening gown.

Colonel Hayes took another step into the light of the chandelier, his uniform immaculate, his face expressionless.