I dressed in the modest navy dress I’d originally planned—simple, safe, easy to disappear in. My mother wanted me to arrive after the ceremony began, so I timed my drive to slip in late. Invisible. Convenient.
At 10:00 a.m., my phone rang.
My mother’s voice hit my ear like an alarm. “Sophia, what did you do?”
“What are you talking about?”
“There are Secret Service agents here,” she hissed, as if whispering could shrink reality. “At the Wellington estate. They’re doing security sweeps. Asking about you. What is happening?”
I closed my eyes and leaned against my car door in my parents’ driveway. “I didn’t do anything.”
“They said something about a protected individual attending the wedding,” she said, the words barely comprehensible. “Sophia, please tell me you didn’t do something crazy like contact the White House.”
I exhaled slowly. There was no gentle way to say it. “I’m dating someone, Mom. Someone who requires security protection.”
A pause. “Who?”
“Daniel Chin,” I said. “The president’s son.”
Silence so complete I checked my screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
“You’re…” Her voice wavered. “You’re dating the president’s son.”