Chapter 4

As the bridal party prepared for the grand entrance, my father, Toren, emerged from the suite, adjusting the lapels of a brand-new, bespoke tuxedo.

When I had asked him to walk me down the aisle last month, he had flat-out refused. "I'm not putting on a show, Elowen. You can walk yourself," he had scoffed.

But today? Because Liora was the one wearing the veil, he had rushed out yesterday to buy a custom suit just to play his part in her twisted game.

Beside him, my mother, Mara, gripped Liora's hands, wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "Thank God this is all just pretend," she whispered fiercely, "or my heart truly wouldn't be able to take losing you."

I sat alone at a dimly lit corner table near the exit, my face devoid of emotion. The right side of my head still throbbed with a relentless, stinging ache from the confetti cannons.

"The bride is ready to enter!" the wedding planner announced over the radio.

I sat still as I watched Toren escort my sister down the candlelit aisle. I watched her step up to Kael. I watched them exchange vows, slide my engagement diamond ring onto Liora's finger, share my first kiss, and cut my three-tiered wedding cake.

A cavernous void swallowed my chest.

The banquet flowed into the late hours, adhering to the itinerary I had spent months agonizing over. Then came the final tradition.

"Ladies, gather 'round!" the emcee boomed into the microphone. "It's time for the bouquet toss!"

Kael handed the lush gardenia bridal bouquet to Liora. Following the planner's instructions, Liora lowered her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep, theatrical inhale of the delicate white petals for the photographer.

The moment the scent hit her lungs, her smug smile vanished.

Her complexion instantly drained of color, twisting into pure terror. She lunged forward, clawing at Kael's sleeve. "Kael… what kind of flowers are these?"

Kael looked at her, confused. "They're your favorite. Gardenias. I went with you to pick them out, remember?"

"I—"

Liora couldn't even form the word. She collapsed onto the parquet dance floor, a strangled, wheezing gasp tearing from her tightening throat. Angry, raised red hives erupted violently across her neck and chest. She was suffocating, her breaths sounding like a broken bellows gasping for air.

Mara's polite applause froze. She let out a piercing scream, throwing herself over the head table to scramble onto the stage. "Liora! Oh my God, what's happening?!"

Toren was right behind her, his hands shaking as he dialed 911. "My daughter can't breathe! We're at the Grand Horizon Ballroom, send an ambulance!"

Adrenaline obliterated my numbness. I bolted from my shadowy corner, shoving through the paralyzed crowd of guests. I dropped to my knees on the stage and kicked the cluster of white petals as far away from Liora as I could.

"She has a severe allergy to gardenias!" I shouted, waving the suffocating crowd of relatives backward. "Everyone step back! She needs air!"

In the paralyzing shock and humiliation of the bridal swap, I had forgotten that my floral arrangements would end up in my sister's hands.

Mara's tear-streaked face snapped toward me. Before I could read the lethal intent in her eyes, her palm swung through the air and struck the side of my face with a sickening crack.

The brutal slap landed on my damaged right ear. The impact plunged my head back into a horrifying, high-pitched whine, snapping whatever equilibrium I had left. My vision blurred as I slumped sideways.

"You malicious little bitch! Did you plan this?!" my mother shrieked, her hateful voice piercing through the ringing in my skull. "She's your sister! How could you be so evil that you'd try to kill her?!"

Before the words could even register, a shoe slammed into the back of my knees.

My legs gave out, and I plummeted hard to the floor. Toren stood hovering over me, his chest heaving with rage.

"If your sister doesn't make it to the local community hospital emergency wing in time," he spat, "I will personally make you pay with your life."

I opened my mouth, desperate to defend myself to my parents, to scream that I was the one who picked the gardenias because I was supposed to be the bride.

But the devastating injustice of it all strangled the words in my throat, leaving me voiceless.

Below the stage, the guests erupted into a frenzy of shocked murmurs.

"Wait, what is happening? Isn't the bride Elowen?"

"Did her parents just call the bride their younger daughter?"

"Did the identical twins swap places? Oh my God, does the groom even know?"

That last, piercing question cut through the chaos like a knife.

The frantic movement on the stage froze. Toren and Mara snapped their heads up, the reckless heat of their anger extinguished by the terrifying realization of where they were. Of who was standing right beside them.

In unison, they turned around.

Kael stood motionless at the edge of the stage, the color drained from his face. His mouth hung slightly open, his chest rising as his frantic, bloodshot eyes darted wildly between me—sprawled on the floor in the dusty-rose bridesmaid gown—and Liora, gasping for air on the ground in the wedding dress.

Through my dizzying, blurred vision, I watched his trembling lips as he mouthed a single, fragmented question.

"What the hell is going on?"