“I know, boy,” Emma whispered, not stopping her steps. She walked right past him, straight toward the gift table in the corner. One silver-wrapped box sat apart from all the rest. No card, no name, just polished wrapping paper and a white ribbon tied far too neatly. It hadn’t been stacked with the other gifts—it had been deliberately placed there.
Emma reached out for it. “Miss?” an usher said quietly, stepping forward nervously. “Is everything alright?” “Who brought this box?” Emma asked firmly. The usher frowned, shaking his head. “I honestly don’t remember. It wasn’t handed to me with all the other gifts.” Footsteps approached behind her—Vincent and Daniel.
“That’s mine,” Daniel said quickly, far too quickly. “Just something I didn’t want mixed in with the other presents.” Emma turned to face them. Both men looked tense, pale, and on edge. “Open it,” she ordered firmly. Daniel forced a nervous laugh. “Emma, come on, this is ridiculous—” “Open it,” she repeated, her voice unwavering.
