It was 11:42 p.m. Five of my closest friends and I were in a hotel suite downtown for Brooke’s bachelorette party.
Jenna was waving a champagne flute like she was conducting an orchestra, and Hannah was trying to balance a plastic tiara on Brooke’s head. Someone had cranked the music.
Lila was filming everything for a “last single night” montage that she’d already promised to turn into a highlight reel.
I almost ignored it when my phone buzzed in my pocket, but then I figured my husband, Jack, might be struggling with the kids.