* Lawrence *
It was the kind of event where everything glittered just enough to distract you from the weight behind it.
Politics disguised as celebration. Champagne as lubricant for ambition. And me, smiling, shaking hands, nodding at pleasantries I wouldn't remember come morning. The string quartet played something elegant and forgettable. The chandeliers overhead glistened like diamonds on strings. Around me, the world blurred in muted tones of wealth, silk, and aftershave.
But she stood out. Jana Salazar.
Like a thread of ink drawn through water, subtle, slow, but impossible to ignore. And I was glad that Dianne was not here tonight at the Dankworth company anniversary. Even when she was invited but she did not show up.
I greeted board members with the same tempered smile, allowed
