“It hurts, Ethan, but I can sit,” my mother whispered, her teeth grinding together as she tried to hide the pain. I carefully hoisted her onto the plush velvet bench, keeping my shoulder firm against her side.
Claire didn’t even turn around from the mirror. She casually picked up a tube of lipstick, applying a fresh coat of rose gloss with a steady, unbothered hand.
“The photographer is waiting on the terrace,” Claire said, eyeing her reflection with cold satisfaction. “If your mother needs a doctor, call one, but the ceremony starts on time.”
“She’s your mother-in-law in fourteen minutes,” I said, my voice shaking with a rage I had suppressed for far too long. “And you just put her in the hospital.”
Claire turned around slowly, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “If she can’t walk down the aisle properly, she shouldn’t have come.” What dark secret was Claire hiding behind her sudden arrogance? Continue reading Part 3 below to uncover the truth.
