As I raised the knife to cut the wedding cake, my sister suddenly wrapped her arms around me, holding on far tighter than the moment called for. Gasps rippled through the Grand Conservatory as plates clattered to the floor and confused voices rose all around us. I staggered forward, my pulse racing, struggling to understand why a celebration had dissolved into chaos within seconds.
Sarah’s hand clamped firmly around my wrist, grounding me when everything else felt unreal. She didn’t explain—she didn’t have to. The urgency in her eyes told me this wasn’t panic or jealousy or drama. It was fear. Real fear. As she pulled me away from the crowd, a single thought cut through my confusion: something was very wrong.
I glanced back just once. David’s expression was nothing like the smile he’d worn moments earlier. The anger in his face confirmed what Sarah already seemed to know. Whatever this night was meant to be, it wasn’t safe.
We pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, startling the staff who froze mid-task. The quiet clatter of dishes and murmured conversations stood in sharp contrast to the tension pounding in my ears. Sarah didn’t slow down. Neither did I.
Behind us, the celebration continued in fragments—but ahead lay answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.