Chương 5
Not even breathing.
“The dress?”
“My mother’s dress.”
“Claire, what are you talking about?”
“She came into the suite at nine fourteen this morning and put it in a bathtub with wine, coffee, and bleach.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I have video.”
Another silence.
Then his voice dropped.
“No.”
“I watched her do it.”
“No, I mean she wouldn’t.”
The words hurt more than I expected.
Tessa looked away.
I stood because sitting had become impossible.
“I’m sending you the video.”
“Claire, wait.”
“No.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you.”
“You just did.”
“I said it doesn’t make sense.”
“Those are not the same sentence, Adrian.”
“I know.”
He sounded frightened now.
Good.
He needed to be frightened.
I sent the recording.
For thirty-seven seconds neither of us spoke.
Then I heard him inhale sharply.
Once.
Then again.
“Oh my God.”
I waited.
“Claire.”
His voice broke on my name.
I hated that part of me softened.
I hated even more that another part wanted to punish him for needing evidence.
“Keep watching,” I said.
He did.
When the recording reached the phone call, Adrian went completely quiet.
At the end, he said, “What revised trust papers?”
I leaned against the vanity.
“Exactly.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“Daniel says your mother sent revised documents to his office yesterday.”
“She did.”
My head came up.
“You knew that?”
“She sent me copies too.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I was going to deal with it after today.”
“Of course you were.”
“That isn’t fair.”
I almost laughed.
“My mother’s wedding dress is dissolving in a bathtub because your mother thought grief would make me disappear, and you want to talk about fair?”
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“No, I don’t.”
I heard a door open on his end.
Adrian snapped, “Not now.”
The door closed again.
“I’m coming upstairs.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“Your mother expects you upset.”
“I am upset.”
“She expects me gone.”
A pause.
Then he understood where I was going.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying she has a plan for the moment you discover your bride has vanished.”
“You’re not vanishing.”
“She doesn’t know that.”
He went quiet.
I could almost see him pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, the habit he had whenever he was trying to hold several thoughts together at once.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked.
It was the right question.
Not what are you doing.
Not are we still getting married.
What do you need me to do.
I looked at Tessa.
She gave the smallest nod.
“Act normal,” I said.
“For how long?”
“Until I tell you otherwise.”
“Claire, my mother destroyed your dress.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know if I can look at her.”
“You need to.”
His breathing became uneven.
“Why?”
“Because she thinks she still has control.”
“What have you found?”
“Enough to know this is bigger than the dress.”
“Tell me.”
“Your father told Marisol yesterday that people were signing things in his name.”
Adrian stopped breathing for one terrible second.
Then he said, “What?”
“He tried to reach you.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“My mother told me he was confused.”
“I know.”
Another silence.
This one felt different.
Something inside Adrian had shifted.
Not broken.
Moved.
When he spoke again, his voice was quieter than before.
“Dad is supposed to be here at one.”
“Who’s bringing him?”
“My mother said her driver.”
“Call the driver.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“And say what?”
“Ask when he’s leaving with Charles.”
I heard him moving.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“If Dad isn’t coming?”
I stared at the ruined ivory fabric visible through the bathroom doorway.
“Then we go get him.”
Adrian called back less than four minutes later.
“He isn’t coming.”
I closed my eyes.
“What did the driver say?”
“Mom canceled the pickup.”
“When?”
“Ten twenty-six.”
“Did she give a reason?”
“She said Dad had a bad morning.”
Tessa was already reaching for her shoes.
I looked at the clock.
11:56.
“How far is the house?”
“Twenty-five minutes if traffic behaves.”
“Get your keys.”
There was a pause.
“You want me to leave the hotel?”
“I want you to meet me downstairs in five minutes.”
“Claire, you’re in the middle of getting married.”
“Apparently your family has made that a flexible concept.”
Tessa snorted despite herself.
Adrian did not.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Your hair.”
I looked at myself in the mirror.
My hair was pinned into a soft knot that had taken forty-five minutes and enough spray to survive atmospheric reentry.
“I’ll cope.”
“What are you wearing?”
“A robe.”
“Please put on clothes before we abduct my father.”
“We are not abducting your father.”
“Good.”
“Unless he asks.”
That earned the smallest breath of laughter from him.
It disappeared almost immediately.
“I’ll be downstairs.”
I ended the call.
Tessa was already unzipping the garment bag containing my backup reception dress, a simple ivory crepe dress I had planned to change into after dinner.
“Put this on.”
“I can’t go to Charles’s house dressed like a bride.”
“You cannot go in a hotel robe.”
“Jeans.”
“Your jeans are at home.”
“Then reception dress.”
“Excellent.”
She helped me step into it.
There was no lace.
No pearls.
No blue thread hidden in the hem.
The dress fit perfectly and felt completely wrong.
For one second, staring at myself in the mirror, I wanted to rip it off.
Tessa caught my expression.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You make that face right before you decide suffering is more honest than practicality.”
“That is a very specific accusation.”
“You’ve been my friend for fourteen years.”
She zipped me up.
“Also, your mother would haunt you if you canceled a wedding over fabric.”
My throat tightened.
“It wasn’t just fabric.”
“I know.”
Tessa’s voice softened.
“I know exactly what it was.”
May you like
She adjusted one strap.
“But if you think your mom spent six months fixing that dress so you could let Evelyn Harrow decide what happens next, then you and I remember your mother very differently.”
