Belles POV
The first notes of the music floated through the air, gentle and sweet, almost too perfect. My palms were clammy against Jasper's, but his grip was warm, steady. He leaned down slightly, his lips curving in that soft smile of his ,the one that told me I had nothing to be afraid of.
"Ready?" he whispered.
I nodded, even though my heart was hammering against my ribs. It wasn't the dance I was afraid of. It was everything else. The weight of the past, the scars I still carried.
We took the first step onto the dance floor. The lights dimmed, and the whole room seemed to hold its breath. People were smiling, eyes shining, phones already lifted to capture the moment.
And then I saw her.
At first, I thought I was imagining it. A small figure at the back, framed by the doors. My heart stumbled, my breath catching sharp in my throat.
Millie.
My daughter.
