After the ceremony, the estate shifted back toward celebration, but it couldn’t quite forget the security perimeter. Agents stood near the tent poles like invisible punctuation. Guests made jokes that weren’t really jokes. People kept glancing at Daniel, then at me, then at my family, like the whole day had become a lesson in how quickly social rankings could flip.
During cocktail hour, my mother hovered beside me as if proximity might rewrite history. She introduced me to people I’d already met as a child, only now her voice carried pride like a new accessory.
“This is our Sophia,” she said, smiling too widely. “She does very important work in D.C.”
One woman in a pale blue dress blinked at me. “Oh? What kind of work?”
Before my mother could translate my job into something she considered respectable, Daniel answered.
“She’s a policy analyst,” he said. “She’s brilliant. The kind of person you want in the room when decisions are being made.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Really.”
“Really,” Daniel confirmed.
My mother laughed nervously, like she’d nearly been caught lying and then got rescued.