The grand ballroom buzzes with activity, the soft hum of conversations blending with the tinkling notes of the live piano player in the corner. The elegant chandeliers cast a warm glow over the scene, illuminating tables adorned with pristine white tablecloths, sparkling crystal glasses, and delicate floral arrangements. Despite the outward glamour, an undercurrent of tension lingers in the air, heavy and unspoken, like a storm waiting to break.
Jack’s hand remains firmly on the small of my back as we weave through the crowd, nodding politely at familiar faces. His protective touch is both reassuring and grounding, a reminder that we’re in this together.
“Let’s find a table,” he murmurs, his voice low but firm.
I glance around, spotting Brenda seated at a table near the dance floor, her
