The guests, sensing the awkwardness, slowly resumed their conversations, though the previous joviality was noticeably absent. The room hummed with an undercurrent of tension, like a storm threatening to break.

I caught Thomas’s eye, and he gave me a pleading look, silently begging for a chance to explain. I nodded slightly, acknowledging the unspoken agreement to discuss this later. Charlotte, meanwhile, quietly excused herself, citing a sudden headache, and slipped out the door, leaving behind a trail of speculation.

As the evening wore on, I moved through the party in a daze, exchanging pleasantries and thanking guests for coming, all the while replaying Hazel’s words in my mind. Each time, the image they painted grew more vivid, more undeniable.