Sonia’s POV
By the afternoon, Clara had already turned the small sitting room into her “planning command center.” Rolls of parchment, fabric swatches, guest files, and color samples sprawled across every surface. She was a storm of energy, and I was her willing accomplice.
We spent hours debating color palettes, invitations, and florists. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was laughing, genuinely laughing, at her over-the-top ideas.
“Clara, no one’s going to wear gold sequined masks,” I said, trying not to choke on my tea.
“They will if I tell them to,” she said dramatically, waving her pen like a wand.
Lewis walked in, overheard, and sighed. “Just don’t terrify the board this time.”
Clara ignored him entirely.
And somewhere in that chaos of laughter and paper, I felt s
