Christine Vale’s POV
The hall hummed with quiet excitement, but I stayed back, arms loosely crossed, taking in the scene before me. My daughter’s wedding. Ariana. My little girl, poised on the edge of a new life. Pride and worry tangled together in my chest, a familiar knot I had learned to carry over the years.
She looked breathtaking. The gown hugged her perfectly, the lace catching the sunlight streaming through the windows. Her hair was pinned just right, soft strands framing her face, and her eyes… wide, bright, trembling with anticipation. Harper flitted beside her, fussing with a ribbon or hem, as always. The sight brought a small, amused smile to my face. My daughter had always had someone watching her back, keeping her grounded, and it comforted me to see Harper there, fiercely
