Iris
Unfortunately, the champagne winds up doing very little to calm my frayed nerves as I weave through the crowd, staying close to the walls where I’m less likely to be noticed. Every few minutes, I catch a glimpse of Veronica’s glittering red gown across the room, and my stomach performs somersaults.
And every time I catch a glimpse of that gown, I also catch a glimpse of those cold gray eyes swiveling toward me. I swear she’s scanning the crowd, searching for something—or someone.
Me.
Just as her head turns in my direction, I duck behind a group of patrons. Veronica’s eyes sweep across the area, but thankfully don’t land on me, and I take the opportunity to study Arthur from across the room.
Ezra was right; there is something sort of… off about Arthur’s mannerisms
