The morning of the MWC Ball arrived quietly, almost deceptively so.

I woke before the alarm, the pale light of dawn slipping through the curtains in soft ribbons. For a moment, I remained still, listening to the house breathe. The distant hum of traffic. The steady ticking of the clock. The low rhythm of a day that did not yet know what it would demand of me.

Today was not the night.

Today was the proving ground.

I rose slowly, careful not to disturb Matthew, and crossed the room toward the ...