Lunch was served under a white tent in the courtyard, long tables lined with salads, wraps, and chilled lemon water. The air buzzed with nervous laughter and the soft clink of cutlery. Everyone was studying everyone else — who looked like they belonged, who didn’t, who had simply bought their way in.

I stood near the edge with a plate in my hand, not hungry, just performing the motions.

And then I saw her.

Serena.

Already seated at the center table, surrounded, radiant — laughter ...