The banquet hall breathed money: cream linen, muted florals, a quartet trying not to be heard. Sarah walked in alone, spine straight, black gown a clean stroke through the warm light.
Owen and Lisa peeled away from donors as if the room had arranged it. Lisa clung to his sleeve, bow neat, face pale with practiced softness. Owen's smile was for onlookers; the edge under it was for Sarah.
“Sarah," he said quietly. “There's been a misunderstanding."
“There's been a decision," she answered. “We're finished."
He breathed a tolerant laugh. “That's exactly what I brought Lisa to clarify. She's like family. Tell her," he urged.
Lisa's eyes filled to the rim. “I never meant to come between you," she murmured. “Owen is my brother. Please don't make him send me away."
Sarah remembered red lipst
