Chandeliers sparkled from towering ceilings. Servers in crisp uniforms carried trays of food I couldn’t name. The guests wore outfits that likely cost more than my monthly pension.
Cassandra’s mother greeted me with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “How lovely you could come. Liam’s told us so much about you.”
Her tone was like she was humoring a child who’d wandered into the wrong party.
Cassandra appeared next, all polished hair and flawless makeup. She gave me a quick side hug that felt like nothing. “Hi, Nana Bea,” she said, her voice sweet but hollow.
Her gaze flicked to my shoes, the ones I’d shined that morning. “Oh, those are so retro, aren’t they?”
“Yes, Henry got them for me back when—”
“How charming!”
She was already turning away, waving at a friend across the room. I spent the brunch trying to fit into conversations that had no space for me.
