RENEE
I arrived home about an hour before Miles, still wearing the dress I had chosen for the event. It hugged me perfectly, a reminder of the bold statement I had made earlier. A glass of red wine rested in my hand as I stood in front of the TV, watching the news coverage that had dominated the internet since the memorial service. The headlines flashed across the screen, the anchors' voices filled with speculation and disbelief.
Chaos. That's what I had unleashed today, and calling it anything less would have been a gross understatement.
The same video I had so carefully orchestrated to play at the memorial hall now aired repeatedly on every major channel. Seeing it broadcasted for the world to witness made my lips curl into a triumphant smile. I raised my glass in a silent toast to myself and took a slow, savoring sip of wine. Pride swelled in my chest. This moment—I had made it happen. All of it.
"You could have at least told me first."
