(Michelle POV — When the Lights Turn Gold)
By exactly four in the afternoon, Vince Kho had transformed his absurdly pristine driveway into what could only be described as a rogue Christmas festival sponsored by chaos and disposable income.
There were twinkling lights strung between trees like floating constellations. Artificial snow machines hissing delicately into the air. A velvet platform raised two feet above the ground with a glittering banner that read:
INNER NINE CHRISTMAS CAROLLING BATTLE
Est. by Vince. Endorsed by No One.
The neighboring mansions — equally extravagant and terrifying — began to open their gates one by one, curious homeowners emerging in furs, scarves, and barely concealed judgment.
"This has gone too far," Kate muttered beside me.
"This has not gone far enough," Vince declared, handing out tiny jingle bells with militant enthusiasm.
Lara stood to my other side, arms folded, observing the scene with an unreadable expression.
