Miranda surveyed the fleet of vehicles crowding the circular driveway of the Shelton estate, counting at least fifteen cars parked in neat rows.
"Did we miss the start time?" she asked, glancing at her phone screen.
Nolan let out a soft laugh as he shifted the car into park. "Not at all. My mother likely instructed everyone to arrive before us."
"Any particular reason?"
"Because that's Ophelia Shelton's way—she orchestrates everything down to the minute." Nolan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, this is a celebration, not an ambush. Though this gathering will seem quaint compared to when you're expecting their first grandchild."
Miranda's gaze drifted to her engagement ring, still unfamiliar on her finger. The past few days since March Holden's arrest had been a whirlwind, and her mind was struggling to keep pace. That morning at the office had been particularly challenging.
