In fact, it was oddly... gratifying.
But by the time I made it out of the ballroom, past the corridors lined with gold trim and blooming white orchids, through a door leading outside, I couldn't resist the sigh of relief.
The night air wrapped around me like a cool embrace.
The moon hung low and luminous over the garden, and everything smelled faintly of honeysuckle and citrus.
The cobbled path wound through manicured hedges and fountains. As I walked through it, it felt like a dreamscape carved for moments like this—private, hushed, surreal.
I sat on a bench tucked beside a trickling stream and pulled out my phone.
No messages. No missed calls.
I tapped Maya's contact and waited. It rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Voicemail.
"Hey," I started, holding my phone to my ea
