I let out a soft laugh, my shoulders finally relaxing. There was something incredibly comforting about Jasmine's energy—warm, effortless, real.
For the first time in a long while, I felt like I had a real friend.
As we laughed, trading stories and playful banter, I almost forgot where I was. Almost.
Because across the room, Selena never forgot.
Her gaze darkened, fingers tightening around the delicate stem of her champagne flute. Mariela leaned in, whispering something into her ear, and just like that, the two of them exchanged smug smiles.
My happiness—however fleeting—was enough to spark resentment, to stir the embers of whatever cruel game they were scheming.
Then, a sharp, angry click of heels against polished marble shattered the moment. The conversation around us died as the rhythmic stomping grew louder.
I turned slowly, already bracing myself.
Selena.
