Russell’s children believed it immediately.
His two sons were distant but polite when we met. His daughter, Marlene, made no attempt to hide her contempt.
At our engagement gathering, she looked at my inexpensive dress, then at my hands as though she expected to find evidence of theft.
“So you’re Father’s newest project,” she said.
I forced a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
She did not smile back.
During the wedding, I tried not to notice the whispers. I focused on Russell’s hand around mine and the gentle certainty in his eyes.
When he brought me to his house after the ceremony, I stopped just inside the doorway.
The floors were made of polished marble. A sweeping staircase curved toward the second floor, and the ceilings rose so high that my footsteps seemed to disappear into them.
Russell squeezed my fingers.
