That evening, she told Daniel the news. “You got it?” he asked, eyes wide. “Mia, that’s incredible.” She smiled, relieved that pride, not envy, filled his voice. “Maybe things are finally turning around,” he said. She nodded, though she doubted Eleanor would see it that way.
On the wedding morning, the caterer reported a missing shipment. The hors d’oeuvres were late, and the main course was delayed. Guests began to natter in clusters. Eleanor fluttered like a hostess with practiced concern, offering to “cover” the minor disaster.