SHE WAS TOLD TO USE THE SERVICE ENTRANCE AT HER SISTER'S LUXURY GALA — UNTIL THE MYSTERY BENEFACTOR STEPPED OUT OF THE LIMOUSINE

"Mrs. Sterling, thank goodness you're here," the managing director breathed, bowing slightly as an attendant hurried forward with a dry cashmere wrap. "The board of governors has been waiting for your signal before unveiling the plaque."

Victoria's champagne flute tilted dangerously in her hand. "Mrs. Sterling? Wait—there must be a mistake! That's my sister Hannah, she works at a tiny restoration studio in Greenwich!"

The managing director glanced briefly at Victoria as though noticing an unruly bystander for the first time. "Madam, Hannah Sterling is the sole founder of the Sterling Medical Trust—and the patron financing tonight's twelve-million-pound pediatric wing."

Behind him, the tall silver-haired chairman of St. Jude's Hospital stepped onto the carpet and offered Hannah his arm with a warm smile. "Shall we head inside, Hannah? Or would you prefer we relocate the endowment to a committee with better manners?"

Hannah looked once at the torn cream card resting inside the brass umbrella stand, then back at her sister's pale, frozen expression.

"Let's go inside, Sir Thomas," Hannah said softly. "After all, Table One appears to have an extra seat available now."