Naomi Steps Into the Marble Courtyard
The black limousine hissed to a stop, its doors opening on a carpet of polished stone.
Naomi emerged, the twin’s tiny fingers wrapped tightly around hers, their heads bobbing with each careful step.
Her dress was a simple, worn‑out navy sweater and jeans, the only thing left of the “finest” she could afford.
The guests turned, their chatter silenced by the sudden intrusion.
Roland stood at the center, tuxedo immaculate, his smile cracking as he saw her.
