I heard the party before I saw it.
Glasses were touching, people were greeting one another, and Celeste was laughing near the center of the table.
The room looked exactly as she had requested.
Gold pendant lights warmed the long table.
The cake waited on a side stand beneath a clear cover.
Cream place cards marked every setting.
I moved toward the only empty chair I could see, which was beside Lila.
A cream card stood in front of the plate.
I had not yet read the name when Celeste’s fingers closed lightly around my elbow.
Her touch was gentle enough to look affectionate from a distance.
“Maren,” she said brightly.
Several cousins turned toward us.
“Find another table, sweetheart. This one’s for family—not adopted girls.”
She laughed immediately after saying it.
