The jet lag hadn't fully caught up with her yet, but Soraya's body ached from the long flight out of New York. The air in Englewood was crisp, scented faintly with pine and something sweetly floral she couldn't quite place. As the car wound through the tree-lined road, the towering redwoods rose like ancient sentinels, casting long shadows across the pavement. She pressed her forehead lightly against the cool window and smiled. It was beautiful here—unexpectedly so.
She'd never say it out loud, but she had her doubts about this new chapter in Zara's life. Marrying into a powerful family. Moving into a palatial home. Leaving behind the scrappy, resilient girl Soraya knew from college—the one who used to sneak out of her foster home with a bag of books and dreams. But Soraya had promised herself she'd keep those thoughts tucked away. Today wasn't about skepticism or worry. Today was about her best friend.
The private driveway was long—too long. It curved through more redwoods and landscaped gardens until, at last, the house came into view. Mansion was the only word for it. It was all stone columns and glass walls, perched like a modern-day castle on the edge of the forest.
Soraya's car rolled to a gentle stop and before the driver could even open the door, she saw her—Zara. Standing at the top of the steps in a flowing white sundress, bouncing on her toes like a child about to open a present.
"Soraya!" Zara squealed.
Soraya stepped out and didn't hesitate. She ran up the steps, arms open, and threw herself into her friend's arms. The hug was tight, the kind that makes your ribs ache and your eyes sting.
"I missed you, my friend," Soraya whispered into her ear.
Zara pulled back slightly, blinking away tears. "I missed you, too. Sister."
They stood there a moment longer before Zara broke away to grab Soraya's bag.
"You're staying upstairs, second floor guest suite. It has its own balcony and view of the woods," she said, breathlessly. "And don't get too comfortable, because we've got pre-wedding events at a venue nearby. Then the big day at the resort. I didn't want anything over-the-top, but Erik—well, he wanted to make it special."
Soraya arched an eyebrow. "Special, huh?"
Zara smirked. "It's his family's resort. So, yeah. Think rich-people special."
Soraya laughed. "And I came just in time?"
"You came perfectly in time. The welcome dinner's tonight. You'll meet everyone."
Everyone. Soraya's stomach clenched, but she nodded and followed Zara inside. The house was as grand on the inside as it was outside—marble floors, chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a museum, and large windows that framed the towering trees like artwork.
As they reached the second-floor landing, a deep voice called out from below.
"Zara? You up there?"
"I'm up here!" Zara called back.
Footsteps echoed up the grand staircase. A moment later, a tall man in a tailored shirt and navy slacks appeared. He had warm hazel eyes and a calm, magnetic presence.
"You must be Soraya," he said with a smile that didn't feel rehearsed.
She was surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
"I'm Erik. Zara's told me so much about you. It's good to finally meet the legendary best friend."
Soraya offered her hand, still a little wary, but smiled. "Nice to meet you too, Erik. You've got a lovely home."
"Thank you. We're glad you're here." He glanced at Zara. "Now this wedding weekend can really begin."