The Grand Ballroom of the historic Savannah River Club was ablaze with warm candlelight, crystal chandeliers, and lush arrangements of white roses, pale orchids, and cascading eucalyptus. High ceilings echoed with joyous laughter, the rhythmic clinking of crystal champagne flutes, and the lively jazz quartet playing near the polished parquet dance floor.
Guests moved between elegant linen-draped tables laden with coastal delicacies—fresh local oysters, blackened redfish, truffle-infused risotto, and roasted lamb. At the head table, Artie Laurent raised his glass with a booming laugh, conversing warmly with Elena, whose face was completely relaxed for the first time in months. Beside them sat David Linwood, utterly absorbed in an animated conversation with Danielle, pointing out structural
