CLAIRE
Julian led me through the elegant entrance, his hand warm on the small of my back.
The lobby was beautiful, all marble floors and crystal chandeliers, with well-dressed people moving through the space in quiet conversation.
I looked around, trying to understand where we were. Then I saw the program board on the wall.
The Metropolitan Opera House
Tonight's Performance: La Traviata
My breath caught.
"The opera?" I said, turning to look at Julian. "Have you been before?" he asked, watching my face carefully.
"Once," I admitted. "A long time ago. My mother took me when I was ten, right before she got sick."
Julian's expression softened. "Do you remember it?" he asked.
I thought back to that distant memory, fuzzy but warm. "Not really," I said honestly. "Just that she was so e
