"Maybe it's because I'm a mother too," I said quietly. "I have practice."
Sophia brightened immediately.
"Then could you hold her a little longer? I need to greet the wife of the Montelane family's head."
I nodded.
She left without a second thought.
I looked up at the Renaissance-style murals across the church dome. The angels gazed down with solemn, almost sorrowful expressions.
A floral arch framed the ceremonial area. White and pale-gold roses cascaded from above, and elegant script covered a clear acrylic welcome sign.
Welcome to Isabella's christening, daughter of Andrea Vittore and Sophia Rossi.
It was Isabella's christening, yet my son had never had any celebration at all because everyone had been grieving the loss of his twin sister.
Andrea had been the one who insisted we
