AMELIA
The hall of the Noreland complex was a tapestry of chandeliers and polished marble. The crowd was dressed in black tuxedos and elegant silk gowns.
To me, it felt more like a place of forced smiles and carefully practiced pleasantries than an actual celebration.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and body sprays. The hushed whispers of people filled the room, contrasting against the smooth classical music erupting from the speakers.
As I walked across the hall, every gaze was on me. They weren't just looking at my stunning dress—they were looking at me. The murmurings followed me as I passed.
It felt like hours had passed since we arrived here. Standing and looking around made me extremely bored. I needed my space. I needed to be comfortable—I wasn't at this
