Lila’s POV
My pulse hammers in my throat. I grip the phone tighter, knuckles aching, but the crowd goes on laughing, eating, toasting as if the world hasn’t just tilted beneath my feet.
“Lila?”
Maren’s voice cuts in, soft but sharp enough to drag me back. Her brows knit as she leans closer, lowering her voice. “You’ve been looking around like someone’s chasing you. Are you expecting someone?”
Her question hits too close. I paste a small smile to my lips, fragile and hollow, and force myself to nod. Maybe that will be enough. Maybe she’ll let it go.
But she doesn’t. Her eyes narrow, reading me too easily. “No, Lila. You don’t look okay. If you want, we can leave and go back to the room together.”
Her words hang in the air, louder than they should be. Loud enough to draw attention.
I
