I glanced back just once. David’s expression was nothing like the smile he’d worn moments earlier. The anger in his face confirmed what Sarah already seemed to know. Whatever this night was meant to be, it wasn’t safe.

We pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, startling the staff who froze mid-task. The quiet clatter of dishes and murmured conversations stood in sharp contrast to the tension pounding in my ears. Sarah didn’t slow down. Neither did I.

Behind us, the celebration continued in fragments—but ahead lay answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.