Clara
The place smells of fresh flowers, of polished wood. Of something new… and at the same time, of something about to begin.
I walk slowly through the room, folder in hand, going over every detail one more time. I can't help it. It's stronger than me.
"The chairs in this row should be a little more to the left… yes, like this," I indicate gently.
One of the girls nods and adjusts the position.
I take a deep breath; everything is… almost perfect.
Two days to go, just two. And yet, I feel like my mind won't stop. I check the tables, the centerpieces, the fabrics, the lights. Every little detail I imagined for weeks… and that is now here, in front of me, taking real shape.
"Honey…" My mother's voice makes me turn around.
There she is, smiling. As elegant as ever, so… presen
