Chapter 15 - The Choice Before the Aisle
We reported the threat immediately. Bennett told us not to negotiate with the sender and to preserve the original message.
Emily cried in my arms—not because she was ashamed of her medical history, but because someone had stolen a piece of her life and turned it into a weapon.
“I can't believe I almost married him.”
“Trusting someone isn't a crime,” I said. “What they do with that trust is their responsibility.”
She wiped her face. “Then why do I still love him?”
“Because love doesn't disappear on command.”
At nine the next morning, Daniel asked to meet in the hotel chapel, with Ruth and me present. Emily agreed only because she wanted answers.
The chapel smelled of lilies. Daniel stood by the altar, pale and sleepless.
“My mother hired someone to frighten you,” he admitted. “I found out last night.”
“Who sent the records?” Emily asked.
“I don't know. But I know who gave them access.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Emily staggered back.
Daniel hurried on. “Months ago, Mom said she was helping with an insurance appeal. I gave her copies of forms from your old medical file. I never imagined—”
“You took them without asking me?”
“I thought—”
“No,” Emily interrupted. “You didn't think you needed my permission.”
He pressed his palms together.
“I'll tell the police everything. Just give me a chance to fix it.”
“Start with the truth,” she said. “Not another deal.”
We left him standing beneath the stained-glass window.
In the hallway Emily looked at her wedding gown hanging in its protective bag.
“I want to wear it,” she said suddenly.
I frowned. “Sweetheart?”
“Not to marry him. I want to walk into that room dressed for the future I thought I had—and tell everyone why I won't accept it.”
I looked at my daughter and saw Thomas's courage shining back at me.
Then the hotel manager approached carrying an ivory envelope.
May you like
“Mrs. Hale,” he said, “a gentleman left this for you. He said it's from your husband.”
At the chapel, Daniel kept glancing toward the empty pew where his mother usually sat at family ceremonies. I wondered whether he had ever made a major decision without checking where she stood. For a moment he looked painfully young. Sympathy came easily; trust did not. I could understand how a child might grow into obedience and still refuse to excuse the grown man's actions. Emily seemed to reach the same conclusion as she smoothed the skirt of her dress and turned toward the door.
