Eventually, the last of the guests filter out of the lobby and Mariah’s already starting to clean up, gathering discarded programs and empty glasses. I move to help her, ignoring her protests. “Thorak, you don’t have to do that. I can handle it.” “I know you can,” I say, my voice low. “But I’d like to help. Let me do this for you, Mariah.”
awwww so sweet!!!
