On the day I married Nolan Pierce, I told no one who I really was.Not Nolan. Not his relatives. Not even the women fastening my veil in the bridal suite at St. Matthew’s in Pittsburgh. To everyone there, I was simply Evelyn Hart—quiet, polished, practical. A project coordinator from Erie with a modest apartment, a sensible car, and a taste for understated cashmere that only looked plain from a distance.