Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Tried to Leave

“Celeste.”

Vanessa said the name softly, but Daniel heard it.

He followed her stare.

Celeste had one hand on the ballroom door.

“Where are you going?” Daniel called.

She stopped.

Every face in the room turned toward her.

Celeste forced a professional smile. “I was checking with the kitchen. Dinner service is already behind.”

Margaret folded Emily’s sketch once, carefully. “Stay.”

The single word carried more force than a shout.

Vanessa’s cheeks burned. “Can someone please tell me what is happening?”

Margaret looked at Daniel. “You never showed her?”

“Showed her what?”

“The cedar box.”

Daniel’s expression hardened. “Mom, that box was Emily’s. I haven’t opened it since the funeral.”

“Neither have I. Until this morning.”

A few guests shifted uncomfortably.

Margaret turned to Vanessa. “Emily was Daniel’s older sister. She studied textile design. The cranes were hers. She called them the Whitmore pair because she said one bird should always turn back for the other.”

Vanessa swallowed. She knew about Emily’s death, but Daniel rarely spoke about it. A car accident. A rainy highway. Nine years ago.

“I didn’t know about any sketch,” Vanessa said. “I swear.”

Margaret gave a bitter laugh. “Yet you’re wearing it.”

Daniel stepped between them. “She said she didn’t know.”

“Then ask who designed the dress.”

Vanessa looked toward Celeste.

Celeste’s smile disappeared.

“My designer is Isabelle March,” Vanessa said. “Celeste introduced us.”

Margaret’s eyes snapped to Celeste.

Daniel did the same.

Celeste lifted both palms. “Isabelle is one of the best private bridal designers in New York. I make introductions. That’s my job.”

Vanessa reached for her phone, but the maid of honor, Brooke, hurried forward.

“Vanessa, don’t do this here. Everyone’s filming.”

“Good,” Margaret said. “Maybe someone will finally tell the truth in front of witnesses.”

Daniel stared at Celeste. “Call Isabelle.”

Celeste hesitated.

Only for a second.

But everyone saw it.

Then she said, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Vanessa asked.

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Celeste looked directly at her.

“Because Isabelle March doesn’t exist.”