Chương 2
Emily saw it and regretted the sentence immediately.
That made her angrier.
Victoria lifted her chin.
“No one decided that.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Mom.”
“I’m saying no one knew what happened.”
“You told them she was overwhelmed.”
Victoria’s mouth closed.
Emily stared at Daniel.
He looked uncomfortable now.
“What?”
Daniel rubbed his thumb against the side of his index finger, a habit he had when he wanted time.
“She told me you’d seemed anxious this morning.”
“I was anxious. I was getting married.”
“I know.”
“She told me to go outside because Arthur wanted to talk to me.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
“When?”
“About forty minutes ago.”
“Exactly what did she say?”
Victoria stepped forward.
“Arthur, stop interrogating her.”
He did not look at Victoria.
Emily answered.
“She came into the bridal suite after Maya went to check the flowers. She said you were upset about something in the prenup and wanted to speak to me privately.”
Daniel turned toward his grandfather.
Arthur’s expression became dangerous in its stillness.
“The prenup was signed three weeks ago.”
“I know.”
“I had nothing further to discuss with you.”
“I know that now.”
Victoria exhaled through her nose.
“This is absurd.”
Emily held out the bracelet.
“Then explain this.”
“I can’t explain why you have something that looks like mine.”
“It doesn’t look like yours.”
Arthur’s voice had changed.
Victoria looked at him.
He nodded toward the bracelet.
“I gave you that bracelet when David died.”
Daniel’s father.
The name altered the room.
Even Emily felt it.
David Whitmore had been dead eleven years. Daniel rarely talked about the months after his father’s heart attack. Victoria talked about them even less.
Arthur had once told Emily that grief had not softened his daughter-in-law. It had concentrated her.
Victoria’s expression hardened.
“There are dozens like it.”
“No,” Arthur said. “There aren’t.”
Daniel’s attention remained on the bare wrist.
“Mom.”
Victoria rubbed the spot.
“I must have lost it.”
“In the east garden?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then where?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily realized she was still holding her arm out.
Her muscles had begun to shake.
Arthur noticed.
He removed his dinner jacket and put it around her shoulders without asking. The black wool against the muddy white lace looked almost ridiculous.
Emily let him.
Daniel reached toward her.
She stepped back.
His hand stopped in the air.
Something passed across his face.
She looked away.
“Emily,” he said.
“Not yet.”
He lowered his hand.
Behind them, someone near the doors whispered that the police should be called.
Someone else whispered no.
Someone used the word assault.
Emily closed her eyes for one second.
She had not thought beyond getting back inside.
That had been the entire world: the locked door, the missing phone, the wet ground beneath her knees, the distant sound of strings playing somewhere inside, the sick understanding that the ceremony was starting without her.
Then the bracelet under her palm when she pushed herself up beside the hedge.
Then rage.
Now there were three hundred witnesses and probably thirty phones recording.
That realization struck harder than she expected.
She looked around.
At least six guests visibly lowered their phones.
Daniel followed her gaze.
“Phones down,” he said.
Nobody argued.
“Please. All of you.”
A woman near the aisle slipped hers into her purse.
An uncle Emily had met twice stared at the floor.
Claire, recovering from her paralysis, spoke quietly into her headset.
“Close the ballroom doors. Nobody posts anything.”
Emily almost laughed again.
As if anyone could control that now.
Arthur bent close enough that only Emily and Daniel could hear.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Emily looked at him.
“No.”
Daniel moved immediately.
This time she did not step away when he put a hand under her elbow.
She hated needing him.
She hated herself for hating it.
“Chair,” Arthur said.
A staff member brought one from the nearest table.
Emily sat.
The wet fabric made a soft sucking sound against the cushion.
A completely stupid thought crossed her mind: Claire was going to have a nervous breakdown over that chair.
She almost smiled.
Then she looked at Victoria.
The smile never arrived.
Victoria remained standing near the flowers, every inch of her still arranged for the mother-of-the-groom photographs: navy evening gown, diamond necklace, blonde hair pinned in a formal twist, makeup immaculate except for the faint shine gathering above her upper lip.
Emily had known her for four years.
She had never seen Victoria sweat.
“Call the police,” Emily said.
Victoria’s head snapped toward her.
Daniel went still.
Arthur said nothing.
Emily felt the room react before anyone spoke.
She looked at Daniel.
“If someone had locked your mother outside and stolen her phone before our wedding, would we be discussing whether to call?”
His eyes stayed on hers.
“No.”
“Then call.”
Daniel took his phone from his pocket.
Victoria crossed the space between them.
“Daniel, wait.”
He looked at her.
“I can explain.”
Emily felt Arthur stiffen beside her.
Daniel’s thumb stopped above the screen.
“Then do it.”
Victoria glanced at the guests again.
Emily saw the calculation and, suddenly, understood why she had been invited to the garden rather than shoved into a closet or trapped in a bathroom.
Privacy.
Plausible disappearance.
A bride who had gotten cold feet.
A muddy service path no wedding guest would use.
Victoria had counted on ambiguity.
She had not counted on losing the bracelet.
“I wanted to talk to Emily,” Victoria said.
“You could have spoken to me inside.”
“You wouldn’t listen.”
“Locking me outside is not talking.”
“I did not lock you anywhere.”
“So you were in the garden.”
Victoria hesitated.
Daniel closed his eyes.
Only briefly.
That small movement frightened Emily more than anger would have.
Victoria recovered.
“I followed you outside.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to make sure you actually met Arthur.”
Arthur’s voice cut in.
“Who told you I wanted to meet her?”
Victoria looked at him.
May you like
No answer.
Daniel dialed.
