A tea. My son’s luxury wedding. I was forced to sit alone in the back. “Your poverty will embarrass us,” his bride sneered. Suddenly, a man in an expensive suit sat beside me. “Act like you’re with me.” When my son saw us together, he went pale. The champagne glass in my hand trembled as the wedding coordinator pointed toward the very back row. “Your poverty will embarrass us,” Vivien had sneered just hours earlier, her perfect manicure tapping against the seating chart. I watched my own son, Br