Cold October wind whipped my hair across my face, but the stinging heat on my left cheek completely drowned out the chill. Mara stood beside me on the terrace, her hands clamped over her mouth as silent tears leaked down her mascara. Inside the glass doors, the jazz quartet had finally resumed playing, a jaunty, swinging tune that felt like a sick joke echoing across the luxury ballroom.
Chapter 2 - The Ghost in the MachineWe bypassed the main elevators, taking the service stairs down to the underground valet level where my father’s beat-up Ford F-150 was already idling next to rows of gleaming Bentleys and Teslas. My father sat in the driver’s seat, chewing on a toothpick, his weathered hands resting firmly on the steering wheel