Gemotions

The invitation sat heavy in Eleanor's hand, a crisp white card promising champagne and camaraderie. She glanced at it, then back at the mirror, smoothing the already perfect crimson dress. Tonight, *they* were the ones who would be surprised. She'd been pretending to be oblivious to their planning for weeks, a masterful performance she could finally shed. A giggle bubbled up, escaping before she could contain it. The doorbell would ring, the look on their faces – pure, unadulterated shock! She practically bounced on the balls of her feet as she envisioned the scene. This was going to be excellent.