“Don’t worry, sister. I know exactly what needs to be said.”
The way she emphasized “exactly” made my blood run cold.
The ceremony was beautiful. Emma glowed as she walked down the aisle, her white dress catching the afternoon light. Her new husband Marcus teared up when she reached the altar. Even Victoria seemed moved, dabbing her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief.
But during the reception, as guests enjoyed their farm-to-table dinner, Tyler tapped the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, before we hear from the best man and maid of honor, the bride’s aunt has requested to share some words. Please welcome Victoria Mitchell, senior marketing director at TechNova Industries.”
Victoria stood, smoothing her dress. The spotlight found her immediately. She’d positioned herself at the head table where everyone could see her.
“Thank you, Tyler.”
She smiled, diamond earrings catching the light.
“You know, watching Emma today reminds me of watching her mother at her wedding 20 years ago.”
A few guests smiled. This seemed harmless enough.
“Rachel was so young then, so full of potential.”
Victoria’s voice carried perfectly through the speakers.
“Fresh out of Northwestern with her MBA, the world at her feet. We all had such high hopes.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. David’s hand found mine under the table.
Victoria wasn’t done.
As Victoria continued her speech, my mind flashed back through 15 years of moments just like this.
Christmas 2010.
“An MBA from Northwestern and you’re doing bookkeeping for vegetables?”
She’d laughed, wine glass in hand, while our extended family listened uncomfortably.
Thanksgiving 2015.
“I just closed a million-dollar campaign,” she announced, then turned to me. “Rachel, are you still counting carrots?”
When I explained we’d just landed a contract with Whole Foods, she waved dismissively.
“How nice. Local grocery stores need suppliers too, I suppose.”
Emma’s high school graduation.
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