Lucia stood before her bedroom mirror, applying the final strokes of her makeup with a practiced hand. She scrutinized the delicate pink flush adorning her cheeks and the faint glimmer of her eyeshadow. A smile blossomed on her lips as she recalled that tonight was a significant occasion: the celebration of a decade spent with her husband, Carlos. It was difficult for her to grasp that an entire decade had slipped by since they first vowed to intertwine their lives.

Carlos had a reputation among his friends for throwing parties that lingered in their memories long after the last guest had departed. He cherished the art of crafting an ambiance brimming with melodies, movement, and joy, and for this significant event, he sought nothing short of the extraordinary. Lucia had devoted the whole week to assisting him in every detail—choosing the menu, dispatching invitations, curating the ideal playlist—and now, at last, the day had come.

Their home hummed with a lively energy, as caterers flitted about, ensuring that each platter of food and every floral arrangement was perfectly in place.

The house exuded warmth and hospitality, adorned with shimmering lights and vibrant bouquets that perfumed the air with the sweet fragrance of roses and lilies. In the living room and the expansive backyard, round tables draped in crisp white linen created a charming scene. Fairy lights draped gracefully above the tables,

casting a soft, enchanting glow that felt almost otherworldly. Lucia listened intently to the bustling sounds of the caterers in the kitchen, ensuring that the dinner rolls were baked to perfection and that the chilled drinks were replenished just right. It was the sort of beautifully chaotic scene that invigorated her, a palpable sense that something extraordinary was just around the corner.

Yet, in the midst of her excitement, a knot of unease twisted within her stomach. She found it impossible to overlook the way one of their guests—Carlos’s sister, Beatriz—had a knack for causing chaos. Beatriz was known for her boldness, often crossing the line into condescension. In the familiar rhythm of their family gatherings, Beatriz would arrive, scrutinizing Lucia’s selections, deftly weaving a web of doubt that left Lucia feeling diminished within the very walls that should have offered her solace.