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Emma walked into Jerry's office to find it empty. She was holding two cups of coffee, one of which was for her, and she sipped it slowly."I can do this," she muttered quietly, dropping the other coffee on his desk."Talking to yourself again?"Emma nearly spat out her coffee. She turned around. Jerry stood there, one hand in his pocket, watching her with an amused expression. She stared at him, then at the coffee in her hand, and then back at him."...Good morning, sir.""Good morning." He nodded toward the folder on her desk. "That needs to be reviewed before noon."Emma picked it up, nodding quickly. She was glad she hadn't let go of the coffee, or it would have been a huge mess. "Of course."She watched him for a second as he walked to his desk. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Wait."Emma hesitated, pinching the bridge of her nose when Jerry turned to face her. "That's it?"His brow furrowed. "What else should there be?""I don't know." She waved her hand vaguely.
The last of the catering staff had finally cleared out, leaving the Whitmore estate in a heavy, hollow silence. The ballroom, which had been bright and loud just an hour ago, now looked tired. The massive chandelier above felt dimmed, and the scent of lilies and expensive perfume hung stagnant in the air. In the living room, the furniture was disarrayed from the party. Isla, Beth, and Alisha were sitting on the plush sofa, trying to wind down. Isla reached into a designer bag at her feet and pulled out a box. It wasn't the giant, flashy gift she had paraded around on stage for the cameras earlier. This one was small, velvet, and tied with a simple ribbon. "Happy birthday, again," Isla said, her voice smooth and sweet. She handed it to Beth. Beth’s eyes went wide. She had already received a huge gift from Isla during the party, and she hadn't expected another one. She fumbled with the ribbon, her face lighting up with excitement. "Isla! You already gave me that huge box earlier; y
The hallway leading to the restroom was a sanctuary of silence compared to the thumping bass of the ballroom below. Emma leaned against the cool mahogany door, her chest heaving. "Pull yourself together," she muttered. She stopped in front of the restroom mirror and splashed cool water onto her face. She was just about to turn back toward the stairs when a frantic figure emerged from a side door, nearly colliding with her. It was Beth, her gold dress slightly rumpled, her face flushed with anxiety "Emma!" Emma jumped before letting out a relieved sigh seeing it was beth . "Beth?" Beth looked as though she'd been searching the entire building. "There you are!" Emma forced a smile. "What are you doing here?" "I should be asking you that." Beth tilted her head. "Your eyes are red." "I'm fine." "Liar." She was quick to say leaving Emma speechless . Before Beth could ask another question, her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen before quickly stuffing it
The massive crystal chandelier suspended from the center of the ceiling pulsed with light, casting brilliant, cascading reflections across the polished marble floors like scattered diamonds. Saturday had arrived at last, the grand foyer of the Whitmore estate transformed into a swirling tapestry of velvet, silk, and hushed conversation. The air hummed with the soft, rhythmic lilt of a string quartet, providing a sophisticated backdrop to the high-society crowd. Emma pushed through the heavy front doors, her breath catching as the sheer opulence of the scene washed over her. It was a world she had only touched briefly in the last month, and yet, standing amidst the sea of designer gowns and tailored suits, she felt every bit the outsider. She clutched her purse, her knuckles white, feeling painfully exposed in her simple black spaghetti-strap dress that stopped just below her knee. Emma searched the crowd, her heart hammering against her ribs, until she finally caught sight of Be
*** Isla walked in after Beth left, climbing down the stairs. She smiled brightly as she reached Jerry "Thank goodness you are home; now we can catch up." Jerry pinched the bridge of his nose, running his fingers through his hair and over his face. "What are you doing here?" Isla pouted. "What do you mean? I came to stay with my fiancé. Besides, where do you want me to stay—a hotel?" Jerry wanted to respond with *clearly*, but he chose not to. She saw his expression and walked closer, wanting to place a hand on his shoulder, but the man stepped backward. Isla’s smile twitched for a second before she resumed smiling gently. "Is everything alright?" Jerry picked up his keys, already walking toward the door. "I have work." "It's almost ten," she said, raising a hand exasperatedly. "I'm aware." He walked past her. She watched the front door close. The smile disappeared instantly from her face as she stared at the shut door, then back toward the stairs. She had listened a
Emma pushed the front door open, dropped her purse onto the nearest chair, and kicked off her shoes with far more force than necessary. "I'm home," she called out weakly. Before she could take another step, two heads popped out from the kitchen. "Emma?" Luan frowned. "Why do you look like someone stole your lunch?" Kristie narrowed her eyes. "No... she looks worse." Emma waved them off. "I'm fine." The words had barely left her mouth before tears welled in her eyes. "Oh no," Luan groaned dramatically. "She's crying. Someone actually made Emma cry." "I am not crying." A tear slid down her cheek. Luan pointed at it like evidence at a crime scene. "Then what's that?" "...Sweat." Kristie blinked. "From your eyes?" Emma sniffled. "...Maybe." Luan threw her hands into the air. "Who did it? Tell me! I'll trip them down the stairs." "Please don't." Kristie sighed, nudging Luan’s shoulder as she walked up to Emma and guided her to the couch. Emma buried her face in







