The California sun streamed through the grand windows of the Pacific Hotel, casting golden reflections off the crystal chandeliers.

I stood before the mirror in the dressing room, adding the final touch of lipstick. Today was Jessica’s wedding—my little sister was marrying the man she called her soulmate. My heart brimmed with happiness.

“Maggie, you ready?” Robert’s voice called from outside.

“Almost,” I answered, smoothing the navy-blue dress Jessica had picked for me. Robert stepped in, looking dashing in his suit.

Twelve years of marriage, and his presence still steadied me. “You look incredible,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Excited?”

“I am,” I smiled, though a flicker of concern passed through me.

“Do you think David’s really the one?”

“I spoke with him last night,” Robert said. “He’s genuine, grounded—and the way he looks at Jessica says everything.”

His assurance calmed me. Jessica hadn’t always had the best luck with men.

This time, though, it felt right.

“I’ll head down first,” Robert offered. “Go check on your sister.”

As he left, I made my way to the bridal suite.

My memories drifted to childhood—me, the quiet bookworm; Jessica, lively and adored. After our father died five years ago, we’d grown closer.

But a part of me always wondered if I truly knew her.

Inside the suite, Jessica stood radiant in lace and silk, glowing with happiness.

“You’re breathtaking,” I whispered. She turned, eyes bright. “Thanks, Maggie.

You look amazing, too.”

Mom joined us, smiling through tears.

“Your father would’ve loved this day.” We held hands for a quiet moment, hearts full. The chapel was like a fairytale—white roses, soft music, and rows of guests.

I sat beside Robert, soaking it all in. Then the music changed.

David stood at the altar, nervous but smiling.

Jessica entered, arm-in-arm with Mom. She glowed, her veil trailing behind her like mist. When she passed me, she gave me a small, secret smile—one I hadn’t seen since we were kids.

The vows were heartfelt, the kiss perfect.

Everyone clapped and cheered. I cried, overwhelmed by emotion.

At the reception, champagne flowed, laughter filled the air, and Jessica’s toast made me tear up again. “Thank you, Maggie,” she said.

“For your love and guidance.

I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Dinner began with lobster bisque, followed by a promise of white fish in lemon butter.

Everything was perfect—until it wasn’t.

Robert’s demeanor changed as waiters emerged from the kitchen. He stared at the plates, then leaned in close.

“We’re leaving.

Now.”

“What?” I whispered. “I’ll explain in the car,” he said firmly, already helping me to my feet.

Bewildered, I followed him. No one noticed.

Not Mom.

Not Jessica. As we left, I glanced back—Jessica looked at me. Briefly.

Curiously.

Or knowingly? In the car, Robert’s silence stretched, his hands tight on the wheel.

A few blocks away, he pulled over. “Robert,” I said shakily, “please tell me what’s going on.”

He turned to me, eyes troubled.