Wedding Turned into Mourning

Herbert pressed on, his tone calm but firm. "Let's move past this. Don't ruin our wedding day over it."

I grabbed his tie in exasperation, my scream tearing through the room. "Move past this? Then bring Gail back! You saw the security footage. Chloe dragged her away, and Lori forced that spiked drink down her throat. When your friends pinned her down, she fought until they snapped her bones. Are you blind to that?"

Lori shoved between us, her sneer cutting like a knife. "That villa's cameras were hacked, and those clips are fake. Herbert had them scrubbed. Didn't he tell you?"

His blatant protection of her hit like a sledgehammer. I staggered, ripping the diamond ring off my finger and hurling it at his chest. "This wedding is over! Nobody is stopping me from calling the police!"

I bolted for the villa's grand doors, but Herbert's grip clamped onto my arm, yanking me back. My hip slammed into a table, pain lancing through me.

His eyes icy, he ordered the estate sealed and allowed no guests to leave. Ignoring my protests, he had Gail's body whisked away for cremation, erasing every shred of evidence to protect Lori.

He pried my fingers off Gail's cold hand, one by one. "When you cool off, I'll let you out, and we'll finish this wedding."

The door slammed shut, locking me in the bridal suite, my hope crumbling to dust. I collapsed on the floor, numb, until my hand reached for my phone. With its last breath, I sent a message to Gail's grandfather: [John, I failed to protect Gail.]

Hours bled into eternity as I lay on the bed, hollowed out. The door creaked open, and a pair of hands grazed my waist.

I spun, shoving Herbert off the bed. He started to snap but froze at my gaunt, tear-streaked face. His eyes flickered with pity and guilt. "We could've been married by now. Why do you keep making a scene instead of letting it go?"

My nails dug into my palms. For three years, I'd swallowed his mantra.

When Lori wore his shirts and sprawled across our bed, he called her friendly and told me to chill. When she shredded my wedding dress and stole my gifts, he called her curious and told me to be patient. When she hid under our bed, eavesdropping on our intimate moments, he called her naïve and told me to be more understanding.

Now she'd murdered my sister, and he expected me to choke it down.

"Nobody gets to call me dramatic, least of all you, Herbert," I hissed.

He frowned, his tone almost pleading. "I swear, this is the last time. I know you're hurting over Gail, so I'm postponing the wedding. We'll give her a proper funeral. If you want to say goodbye, stop fighting me."

"Where is she?" I demanded, my voice cracking.

He seized my hand, his smile smug when I didn't pull away. But as he led me out, he stopped dead.

In the hall, before Gail's memorial shrine, a crowd danced under flashing lights to a thumping beat. Her photo lay crushed under Lori's stiletto, warped beyond recognition.