The invitation to the Class of 2016 Reunion had arrived via a glitter-bombed email, courtesy of Natalie. It was less of an invitation and more of a summons to a public execution.
The venue was The Gilded Lily, a rooftop bar that charged twenty dollars for ice cubes and smelled of desperation and expensive cologne. It was the kind of place where people went to prove they had "made it," even if they were putting the drinks on a maxed-out credit card.
Louise arrived thirty minutes late.
She wore the black dress Andy had loved—the backless sheath that made her look like a dangerous secret. She had paired it with diamond drop earrings that caught the light like captured stars. She walked in not with the hesitation of the outcast she had been in high school, but with the stride of a woman who
