#Chapter 43: Photo Op

Emily I could feel the spotlight long before we stepped into it. Camera flashes popped like lightning across the entrance carpet as Logan offered his arm. I took it, deliberately, curling my fingers around his wrist the way I’d practiced. We were here to show unity. Strength. Stability. All the things that photographs could suggest but real life rarely held still long enough to confirm. The gala was opulent in the way only old money could be. Crystal chandeliers, mirrored walls, a four-string quartet tucked into the corner playing a classical music designed to sound both forgettable and expensive. Servers wove between nobles with trays of wine and delicate hors d'oeuvres, all of which looked like they’d taste like the five thousand dollar a plate trays we’d be sitting down to. Logan moved through the crowd, and I stayed close, offering polite smiles, shaking hands, accepting compliments that were really questions in disguise. How lovely you look tonight, how is Titanf