Anya's birthday was the day after mine, and I was sure she and Giovanni had already celebrated it earlier. The thought lingered in the back of my mind, but I didn’t want to feel bitter about it. I couldn’t let myself break down, not today. Instead, I chose to focus on my work, burying myself in tasks that would keep my mind busy. If I just kept going, if I kept my head down, maybe I wouldn’t think about them.

But that didn’t last long.

I was halfway through answering emails when I heard a knock at my door. I groaned, thinking it was just another package or delivery, but when I opened it, there stood Palmer, his familiar, teasing grin in place.

"Hey, Sam," he said, leaning against the doorframe casually, as if he hadn’t just shown up unannounced. "Guess what day it is?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I don’t have time for guessing games, Palmer. I’m busy."

"You’re always busy. But today’s special. It’s Anya’s birthday, and I came to pick you up."

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was to go to Anya’s party. The idea of being surrounded by people who would compare me to her, people who already saw me as second place, was more than I could handle. Not to mention Giovanni would be there, probably hanging off her every word. Just the thought of it made my chest tighten.

"I’m not going," I said, crossing my arms.

Palmer didn’t budge. "Oh, yes, you are."

"No, I’m not." I turned away, intending to close the door, but he stepped inside, preventing me from shutting it.

"Come on, Samara, it’s just a party. You can’t avoid them forever. And if you don’t come, I’ll just stay here and annoy you until you give in."

I sighed, glaring at him. Palmer could be relentless when he wanted something, and right now, he seemed determined. I could argue all day, but I knew he wasn’t going to back down.

"Fine," I muttered. "But I’m only going because you’re giving me no choice."

"That’s the spirit!" he said, his grin widening.

I regretted my decision the moment we pulled up to the venue. It was some upscale, glitzy event space—exactly the kind of place Anya would celebrate. The building sparkled with lights, and the crowd was buzzing, dressed in their finest. I tugged at the hem of my dress, suddenly feeling out of place.

"Let’s just get this over with," I muttered as we walked inside.