Chapter 11

The morning light filtered through my curtains, dragging me from a restless sleep. Last night’s confrontation with my mother weighed on me like a leaden cloak, but I barely had time to process it before another ordeal began. The arrival of Mrs. Evelina Loresca, a friend of my mother’s and an esteemed wedding planner, was announced by the sound of hurried footsteps and hushed whispers outside my door.

Evelina swept into the room with an air of brisk authority, her presence almost larger than life. She was polished to perfection—her suit a crisp cream color, her hair pinned up neatly, and her sharp gaze taking in every inch of my surroundings, clearly judging everything from the decor to my disheveled appearance. Behind her, my mother followed, already wearing a look that warned me to behave.

“Irina,” my mother announced with forced cheerfulness, “Evelina is here to discuss the wedding arrangements. We have much to finalize.”

I mustered a polite nod. “Good morning, Mrs. Loresca.”

“Good