Catherine's POV
I had barely slept, the image of Julian sitting on the edge of my bed clashing with the reality of Lucy sleeping just a few doors away. I had spent the night rehearsing what I would say to her, how I would reclaim my space, but when I walked into the room, the air was sucked right out of my lungs.
She was already there, not just sitting at the table; but presiding over it. She was wearing a cream-colored silk blouse that I recognized instantly—it was one of my mother's favorites, the one she wore to charity luncheons. Around her neck was a string of delicate, shining earls.
"Oh, Catherine! Good morning, dear," my mother said, looking up from a stack of gold-embossed invitations. She looked more energized than usual. "You're just in time. Lucy has been such a help with the guest list for the Founders' Gala. She has a much better memory for the local precinct captains than I do."
