For a moment, everyone forgot Sienna.
That was impressive.
Borderline impossible, honestly.
The birthday girl stood there in starlight and ice-blue divinity, dressed like a reluctant winter goddess who had been bribed into public beauty and was already considering legal retaliation. Sienna had held the room by its throat only a breath ago. Her gown, her glare, the Vice Principal's bow, the word Goddess, the strange gift she kept by her side instead of handing away like the others, all of it should have remained the center of gravity.
But when that woman entered, the hall's attention betrayed itself.
Even Phei forgot, for a heartbeat, the mystery between Sienna and the Vice Principal.
His gaze moved to the slim beauty walking into the black-silver birthday hall, and recognition struck him with the warmth of old frustration:
"Dravenna," he whispered to himself.
Dravenna Ashford.
The Dean; she heard him.
