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watched the reservation switch—smiled openly.
He Gave My Reservation To His Parents—Unaware The Restaurant Was My Brother’s
“Welcome back, Ms. Clara. You look… really good.”
“I feel great, Sarah. Thank you.”
James greeted me with a hug that smelled of pressed linen and expensive cologne. He studied my face, searching for grief, and found only ease.
“VIP room?” he asked. “The Chef’s Table is open.”
