Willow excused herself with the kind of calm that only came from control."I'll be back in a minute," she said lightly, fingers brushing the rim of her glass. "Lipstick emergency."
No one stopped her, not Christy, whose laughter was suddenly too bright, nor the guests who had already begun whispering about the kiss that had cracked the party's perfect surface.
Willow's heels struck marble like punctuation marks, measured, deliberate, final. The emerald silk moved around her legs in fluid shadows, catching the low golden light as she walked. The deep green seemed darker now, richer, almost dangerous beneath the rooftop glow. The cast at her wrist flashed pale each time her arm shifted, an unexpected contrast against the elegance of her dress. Each step carried its own echo. By the time she disappeared through the corridor door, the rooftop's pulse had changed. The night had teeth now.
