New Year’s Eve comes faster than I thought it could. The invitations to our last-minute party came back in a flurry, with Alphas cancelling their other plans to come to ours in a waterfall of RSVPs. They’re still curious, I think, to catch up on the drama after Victor’s almost-wedding.
I’ve barely had time to think in the past two days, but as I stand outside Victor’s house, where I’ve arranged my half of the party, I can’t help but think that I’ve done an amazing job.
We flipped a coin two days ago, Bridgette and I, to see how we’d split up the party area. This is how Henry wanted it – an even split, one party inside, another outside, to see where the guests would gravitate. We’d flipped the coin, but I didn’t care where it landed. I knew what I was taking either way.
“Oh great, he
