Claire stared at the massive banner stretched across the gymnasium wall, hands on her hips, trying to decide if the silver glitter was too much or not enough.
“More sparkle,” she decided, nodding to the group of juniors helping her. “Prom is called ‘Starry Night’ for a reason. We need it to feel magical.”
The students grinned and dove back into their work, sprinkling another layer of silver and deep blue glitter across the hand-painted stars. Claire had volunteered to co-chair the senior prom committee two weeks ago, right after Xander returned to Harvard. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea — a way to stay busy, to focus on something normal and human while her world felt like it was spinning out of control.
Now, it had become her lifeline.
Every morning she woke up, checked he
