Emily stood alone in the museum hall long after the guests had left, her fingers tracing the edge of a tablecloth she’d spent hours perfecting. The petals on the floor were already being swept up, the music silenced, the laughter now only echoes in the rafters. She felt an unfamiliar weight in her chest—not grief, not envy. Something warmer. Pride.
Her mother stepped beside her, carrying a box of leftover desserts.
"You did it," Patricia said. "It was beautiful."
Emily smiled faintly. "It wasn’t just me."
"Still," Patricia said, glancing toward the arched windows. "You made yourself someone no one expected. Not even me."
Emily let the compliment linger. She wasn’t used to earning them.
Two days later, Jack and Sarah boarded a private jet bound for the Richmond coast. No bodyguards, n
