It was a limited-edition Piaget, worth more than Daniel’s car.

“It was a gift from my father,” Claire’s voice floated up to the mezzanine, loud and performative. “He had it imported directly from Switzerland. There are only five of these in the country.”

Mrs. Sterling smiled politely, nodding as she examined the watch from across the table.

“It is exquisite, Claire,” Mrs. Sterling said. “Your family has such impeccable taste.”

Vivian beamed, patting Claire’s hand.

“We believe in investing in quality,” Vivian said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Unlike some people who prefer cheap, vulgar trinkets.”

I knew she was referring to the simple silver locket I wore, which had belonged to my mother.

I leaned against the stone railing of the mezzanine, watching the scene play out.

Mr. Han appeared silently at my side, his hands folded behind his back.

“The Sterling family is considering hosting their charity gala here next month,” Mr. Han murmured. “They are very particular about the guest list.”

“I know,” I said. “And Claire is trying very hard to impress them.”