“The reservation has been canceled, Mrs. Whitmore.”

The receptionist’s voice trembled slightly as she delivered the news.

I stared at her.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”

She swallowed and glanced toward the man standing behind me.

My son.

Daniel Whitmore.

He was thirty-eight years old, wearing a $4,000 Italian suit, a designer watch, and the smug expression of someone who believed the entire world existed to accommodate him.