than anything.
“I read the plan, Brooke,” I said. “The one you posted in the family chat by mistake. After the toast, before the wine. She’s getting confused anyway, so it won’t be hard to sell.” I turned to the table. “I have a copy. I won’t read you the rest. You all heard plenty of the performance live.”
Silence.
“I’m sixty-eight years old and sharper continue reading …
