Seven years ago...
Andrew's birthday came two weeks later. The invitation had arrived casually, almost careless, tucked into a late-night text: Penthouse. Friday. Bring your friends. Don't be late.
Carrie read it over and over, her pulse catching on the word penthouse. She told herself it was just another party, but she was too excited, too restless. She tried on three dresses before settling on one that balanced effort and indifference. Still, she lingered in front of the mirror longer than she cared to admit.
She arrived with Gracie and Damien, their laughter spilling across the sleek marble lobby. Damien, dressed in an embroidered jacket loud enough to blind, preened at his reflection in the mirrored elevator. "This is it, darling," he whispered theatrically. "The night you secure yo
