The music had changed to something livelier, but Chloe still felt the weight of the last dance pressing down on her. She stood by the refreshment table, sipping a drink she barely tasted. Across the room, she spotted Starry speaking with a group of men in sharp suits, his expression unreadable as ever.
Oscar and Ria were nearby, chatting with other guests, but Chloe had no interest in joining them. She was still trying to make sense of the dance—why Starry had asked her, why he had held her so close, why his words had sent a strange flutter through her that she refused to acknowledge.
She was about to turn away when a voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Chloe.”
Chloe stiffened slightly before turning. Evelyn Wordsworth stood before her, elegant and poised as always. Her dark blue gown was
