Chapter 3

My chest went tight, and I grabbed Otto's arm.

"What are you doing?"

He'd sent someone to fetch the bride's personal stylist.

"Redo her styling."

"Take your time, no rush. Be thorough."

Then he looked back at Eugenia, waiting in the back seat.

"Eugenia, your sister's hair is a mess. It'll ruin the photos later."

"Today's the most important day of your life. Everyone should be happy."

Favoritism, dressed up so nobly.

Eugenia said nothing. She just nodded.

But in the way she looked at me, there was a smugness, like this was exactly what she'd expected.

The stylist's hands moved through my hair while the minutes bled away one by one.

The lead car wasn't moving, so the whole motorcade behind us was stuck.

Up front, the wedding planner kept pushing.

"Mr. Henson, if we don't leave soon, the rest of the schedule falls apart."

"Miss the lucky hour and the whole day turns unlucky."

The aunts and older relatives crowded in.

"What's wrong? Is Eugenia feeling unwell?"

"Maybe she should get out first, so she doesn't hold everyone up."

Passing cars were laying on their horns too.

"How long has this road been blocked? Why is this bride so hard to collect?"

My face went a little hot, and I gripped the hem of my bridesmaid dress tight in my hand.

Something clamped over my chest like a big hand, and even breathing hurt.

So the wedding that mattered more than anything to me

was worth less than a strand of Eugenia's hair in Otto's eyes.

Mom came out of the house, saw the scene, and opened her mouth to start yelling.

Then she remembered Eugenia's instructions and shut it again, sheepish.

"What are you all doing? Hurry it up."

Half an hour later, the motorcade finally set off.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Eugenia leaning against Otto's shoulder.

Wearing my identity, today she could get close to Otto out in the open, for all to see.

The hand hanging at my side got a small scratch to the palm.

I turned around.

Otto was smiling at me.

The color drained a little from my face.

I couldn't quite stop the thought.

A little move like that. Had they done it in front of me so many times that it came this easily to him?

The car reached the venue soon after.

Otto led Eugenia out, carrying the hem of her dress in his hand.

The videographer trailed right behind them with the camera, never more than a step away, catching every sweet moment.

The planner held up the schedule and arranged everyone on the lawn.

"Next is the group photo."

"Family and friends from both sides can join."

Otto and Eugenia stood in the middle, my parents beside Eugenia, Paul and Everard beside Otto.

I got shoved to the very outer edge, standing all the way at the end.

"One, two, three, cheese!"

Everyone smiled at the camera.

That was when walls of colored smoke shot up behind everyone all at once, and a huge roar swallowed me whole in an instant.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my ears full of a ringing hum.

When I opened them, the crowd swam in front of me and I could barely stay on my feet.

When we were kids, Eugenia grabbed my favorite toy, and she and I had a huge fight.

Mom and Dad turned it around on me, said I wouldn't give way to my sister, and locked me in the storeroom where no light got in.

"That's what you get for being stubborn. The moment you apologize is the moment I let you out."

"You two look exactly the same, and you're still not as likable as your sister."

Summers were rainy, and the huge thunderclaps outside closed in around me.

In the dark where I couldn't see my own hand, I clawed at the door until my nails split.

Ever since then, I've been terrified of being close to those salute cannons.

At the worst of it, I'd even go briefly deaf.

So when we confirmed the wedding schedule, I know I told them to cancel that part.

At some point, Otto had quietly put it back.

He'd come over without my noticing, and leaned in close to my ear.

"Well? Isn't it beautiful?"

"I added it back secretly for you, risking your sister getting mad at me. Aren't you going to thank me?"

I pressed down hard on my shaking hands and bit through the tip of my tongue to keep myself clear.

Every word I got out came with the taste of blood.

"I love it……"

Over there, the photographer put the finished photo up on the big screen.

At the very edge, all that got captured of me was half an arm.

I smiled, and it was bitter.

Maybe this was better.

Maybe I was never supposed to be in this wedding at all.