“Keep that child away from the cameras,” she said. “We don’t need Mark’s people asking questions.”
Mark. Chloe’s new husband. Rich. Connected. The kind of man my parents had spent their whole lives hoping someone in the family would marry.
I said nothing. That was the only way to survive them. Silence had always been safer than protest.
When she left, I texted Alexander.
Are you close?
He answered fast.
Ten minutes.
I put the phone away. I just had to hold the line.
Then Lily reached for her juice.
Her elbow clipped a waiter’s tray. One glass tipped. Red wine splashed across the bottom of Chloe’s white dress.
The music stopped.
My sister looked down and screamed like she’d been stabbed.
“My dress!”
Every head in the garden turned.
I stood so fast my chair hit the stone. “Chloe, I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
I grabbed a napkin and bent to blot the stain.
She jerked the dress away. “Don’t touch me.”
Lily froze. Then she started crying.
My father came across the patio with murder in his face.
“I told them not to invite you,” he said. “You ruin everything.”
He didn’t stop there. He put both hands on my shoulders and shoved.
Hard.
I fell backward into the fountain with Lily in my arms.