“Right this way, Mrs. Miller,” she said, turning toward the main dining room.
I followed her past the dark wooden booths, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Every step felt like walking through deep water, the emerald green silk rustling softly with my movement, drawing the eyes of a couple dining near the corridor.
At the corner table near the back window, three familiar faces turned toward me. Jake stood up first, his tall frame blocking the light from the brass chandelier above them.
Lily was already waving, her silver rings catching the light as she gestured toward the empty chair next to her.
Noah smiled from his seat, his hand resting on a clear pitcher of water, ready to pour.
I reached the edge of the table, looking at my children’s smiling faces while my own hands shook.
Lily stood up so fast her chair scraped against the hardwood floor. She reached across the small table, her fingers brushing the dark green sleeve of my dress with a light, tentative touch.
