Chapter 4: The Words She Cut Apart

“That recording was about table decorations,” I said.

“You asked to borrow my candles and place-card holders.”

Grace slipped her phone behind her bouquet.

“That isn’t what you said.”

“Play the beginning.”

“I don’t have to stand here while you interrogate me.”

Daniel held out his hand.

“Then send me the file.”

“No.”

Owen’s jaw tightened.

“Grace, play all of it.”

She looked toward the waiting guests.

“Our first dance is in five minutes.

Are you really doing this now?”

Mother stepped between us.

“Enough.

Hannah, let your sister have one day without making everything about you.”

My knees weakened.

“One day?” I whispered.

“I gave her money.

I gave her decorations.

I helped address her invitations.

What else was I supposed to give her?”

“Not tears in front of her guests.”

Daniel caught my elbow as I turned away.

“Hannah, look at me.”

“I can’t stay here.”

“Yes, you can.

You don’t have to argue, but you are not walking away because someone told you your pain was inconvenient.”

Mother’s face changed for a moment, but Grace cut in.

“Daniel should be careful about discussing money,” she said.

“Should I tell everyone about your maxed-out credit card?”

Daniel went still.

I stared at her.

“How do you know about that?”

“You left a statement at Mom’s house.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Grace smiled at Owen.

“Hannah needed money after her wedding.

That’s why she’s trying to turn a borrowed dress and a few cards into some grand betrayal.”

Daniel stepped forward.

“The card paid for my father’s emergency roof repairs.

It was cleared two weeks later.”

“That’s not what she told me.”

“I never discussed our finances with you,” I said.

Grace raised her voice.

“Then perhaps your husband did.”

Several guests began whispering.

Owen’s father approached and asked everyone to move inside, but Owen did not move.

“Did you take Hannah’s envelopes?” he asked.

Grace’s eyes filled on command.

“You’re humiliating me at my own wedding.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

Mother wrapped an arm around Grace.

“She’s under pressure.

Hannah has always known how to push her.”

Something inside me folded.

“So that’s what you believe?” I asked Mother.

“Even after the receipt?”

Mother looked down.

Naomi took my hand, but another woman spoke from the edge of the crowd.

“I believe Hannah.”

Evelyn, Owen’s mother, walked toward us carrying Grace’s overnight bag.

She was normally formal with me, polite but distant.

Now her mouth was a hard line.

Grace stepped away from Mother.

“Why do you have my bag?”

“Because you asked me to put it in the bridal suite.” Evelyn set it on a table.

“It fell open.”

“You went through my things?”

“I picked up what fell onto the floor.”

Evelyn reached inside and removed a small velvet box.

My breath caught before she opened it.

Inside was our grandmother’s sapphire brooch—the one I had planned to wear at my wedding until it vanished from my bedroom that morning.

Grace’s hand flew to her throat.

“That belongs to me,” I said.

Mother stared at the brooch.

“Grace told me you’d lost it.”

“I did lose it.

From a locked room.”

Grace backed toward the tent.

“Hannah lent it to me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“She forgets what she promises.

She always has.”

Evelyn placed the box in my palm and closed my fingers around it.