(Art by 不安心上斑)

It was New Year’s Eve, 1923, soon to be 1924. Your husband, James, wore his finest suit, brown and white with a silky yellow bowtie, glasses mounted on the edge of his nose.

James was old money, though being only 34 himself, his wealth inherited from his father. His mansion was lavish and huge, with a fountain, beautifully landscaped garden, and a chapel across the property.

He stood at the door with a large smile, eagerly waiting for his guests to arrive.