Chapter 2 - WHAT MY MOTHER KNEW
I turned so quickly the stiffened lace pulled against my waist.
“Why would Daniel be the person I shouldn’t tell?”
My mother stared at the floor.
“Because it’s his wedding too.”
“That’s your answer?”
“Claire, please.”
Lena moved between us.
“We need room.”
She called the designer’s assistant, put her on speaker, and explained the damage.
Following her instructions, Lena loosened the back closures without pulling the glued fabric against my skin.
The gown came off slowly.
I stood in a slip while my mother watched the silk settle onto a clean sheet.
For thirty years, I had waited for her to look at something Vanessa had done and finally say enough.
She looked at the dress.
Then at the door.
“I should check on your sister.”
“No.”
My mother blinked.
“You stay here until you answer me.”
Before she could respond, Daniel knocked.
Lena opened the door.
He took one look at my face, then the gown on the floor.
“What happened?”
“Vanessa.”
He went still.
Then he crossed the room and took both my hands.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He looked at my mother.
“Where is she?”
“Daniel, we can handle this quietly.”
He didn’t raise his voice.
“That wasn’t my question.”
My phone buzzed.
A message from the venue owner, Nora: FOOTAGE SAVED. COME TO THE OFFICE WHEN YOU CAN.
Daniel read it over my shoulder.
“What footage?”
“The camera caught her.”
Something changed in his face.
Relief first.
Then anger.
“Good.”
My mother reached for my arm.
“Claire, once you involve other people, you can’t take it back.”
I pulled away.
“She counted on that.”
Nora met us outside her office.
On her monitor, Vanessa appeared in the hallway twelve minutes before entering the suite.
She stopped beside a service table.
Opened her purse.
Removed the glue.
Then she made a call.
The hallway camera had no audio, but her lips moved while she looked directly toward the bridal-suite door.
Nora switched to the next camera.
After leaving me, Vanessa had gone straight to the ballroom.
She passed the flowers, the seating chart, the waiting guests.
Then she stepped behind a column and called someone again.
This time, Daniel leaned toward the screen.
“Pause it.”
“What?”
He pointed at the phone in her hand.
A blue case.
A white sticker shaped like a bird.
“I bought that case,” he said.
“For who?”
He swallowed.
May you like
“My business partner.”
My mother sat down before anyone offered her a chair.
