The sun beamed down on City Hall Park, where the Hamilton family had gathered for a public lecture. Alexander stood tall and alert, a steadying presence beside Eliza, who gently adjusted little William’s hat as he squirmed. Angelica, now ten, clung to her mother’s skirts, while seven-year-old James busied himself chasing a fluttering scrap of paper across the green.

Philip, seventeen and full of restless energy, lingered near his Papa. "You must listen closely, son," Alexander said, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder. "Knowledge is your greatest inheritance."

"Yes, Papa," Philip answered dutifully, though his gaze wandered over the crowd. Somewhere nearby, a girl’s laughter — light and familiar — caught his attention. It was Theodosia Burr, standing a polite distance away with her father, Aaron Burr. She smiled slyly when she noticed Philip looking over.

Eliza noticed, too, and nudged him teasingly. "Perhaps you'll learn more from your peers than from the speakers today, darling."

Philip flushed, ducking his head. "Mama!" he hissed under his breath, mortified.

Still, when Alexander turned his attention to a nearby acquaintance and Eliza bent low to soothe a crying toddler, Philip seized his chance. He edged closer to Theodosia, careful not to draw attention.

"You see that fellow near the fountain?" Philip whispered behind his hand, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "The one with the green cravat? I think—well—he’s rather handsome, don’t you?"

Theodosia raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile. "You should go talk to him," she teased.

Philip hesitated, heart hammering, as the world bustled warmly around them.