Melinda’s POV
The launch was held in the rooftop hall of the Langham.
High glass ceilings.
Velvet seating.
A skyline that glittered like possibility.
There were cameras.
Champagne flutes.
Whispers.
It wasn’t supposed to feel sacred.
But it did.
Carrie stood beside me near the entrance, checking her clipboard like it might explode.
“You ready?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “But it’s happening anyway.”
She grinned.
“That’s what makes it real.”
James’s POV
I watched from the back of the room.
Not because I was hiding.
But because this wasn’t my night.
It wasn’t Melinda’s either — not really.
It was River’s.
They stood near the podium in a black suit jacket and crisp white shirt. No tie. No frills. Just their name badge, clipped to their chest:
RIVER — GUEST SPEAKER
It didn’
