Saturday, at Ivory Towers,
Aveline thanked the helpers who had assisted with the arrangements. She stood at the entrance of the hall, quietly absorbing the final look.
She had shifted the couch around, added long tables, brought in a new set of chairs, and handpicked crockeries from the Laurent mansion. Everything was arranged with meticulous care, her signature grace stitched into every detail.
Martha's smile was wide as she watched Aveline, because this was nothing short of a miracle. Isabella's arrival at Alaric's space was once unimaginable, and here Aveline had made it happen.
Martha checked the time, urging, "Ms. Laurent, thirty minutes more before everyone arrives. You need to get ready."
Aveline hadn't even reacted when the doorbell rang. Her face lit up. "It must be Mom, early to help me."She skipped to the door, only to freeze when it opened.
The Lancasters.
