…though inside, my heart was pounding. My mind raced, trying to comprehend the situation. I glanced around the room, aware of the curious eyes, the whispers already beginning to circulate among the guests. It felt as though the world had tilted off its axis, and I was struggling to find my footing.
Charlotte shifted uneasily, her face flushed, and she avoided making eye contact with anyone. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she gripped her champagne flute, knuckles white. My husband, Thomas, attempted to maintain composure, but his body betrayed him—hands twitching, eyes darting, and a thin sheen of sweat visible on his forehead.
