Sophie stepped forward from the edge of the crowd, her small hand rising to point directly at Anna, who had paused near the refreshment table, her tray balanced carefully in both hands. "I choose her," Sophie announced, her clear, small voice cutting unexpectedly through the ballroom's polite murmur of conversation.
The nearby cluster of guests fell into confused silence, several heads turning to follow the direction of Sophie's outstretched hand, uncertain what exactly the moment required of them. Marcus, standing beside Celeste near the center of the room, turned toward his daughter with visible surprise.
He crossed the room quickly, kneeling down to Sophie's eye level, his expression gentle but carrying an undercurrent of concern. "Sophie," he said quietly, "do you know what you're saying, sweetheart?"
Sophie nodded firmly, her small chin lifting with a determination that seemed entirely disproportionate to her age. She pointed again, more emphatically this time, her voice rising loud enough to carry clearly across the increasingly quiet ballroom. "I want Anna!"