Emma
The Sterling Foundation Gala transformed the Plaza's ballroom into something from a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers scattered light like captured stars, their glow catching on designer gowns and priceless jewels. Fresh roses climbed marble pillars in artful abundance, their scent mixing with expensive perfumes and champagne.
My fingers found the shell necklace from the twins, each tiny pearl a reminder of why I was here. Of the family that gave me strength.
"You're fidgeting again." Amanda appeared beside me, resplendent in her own design. "Stop. Your collection is perfect. You belong here."
Did I? Ten years ago, I would have attended this gala as a guest, not a designer. Would have swept in with inherited confidence, never doubting my place among New York's elite.
Now everything
