Lance

Our eyes meet almost instantly.

We’ve barely been inside the function hall for a full minute. I haven’t even adjusted to the glare of the massive crystal chandeliers. I haven’t processed the crowd, the noise, or the weight of the room.

But the moment my gaze sweeps across the space, it stops.

Alice.

She’s standing on the side, close to the catering area, beside her friend. Her body is slightly angled, as if she’s searching the crowd for someone, too.

And then our eyes lock.

We both freeze.

Not a mild surprise.

The kind where something drops hard into your stomach, and your spine turns cold.

What is she...