Chapter 6 - Olivia's Wedding Was a Trap
By morning, a clip of Grace clutching her stomach had spread across local social media. Mother's foundation posted a statement describing an “unfortunate medical incident.” It requested privacy for the family and praised Evelyn Whitmore for her calm response. It never mentioned the shove.
Olivia called me, sobbing. “My wedding's ruined.”
“Grace and the baby could have died.”
“I know. I'm sorry. But Mom says someone edited the video.”
“Watch the whole thing.”
“I did,” she whispered. “Ethan, there was a meeting before the wedding. Mom told the planner to move a camera facing the rose arch. I thought she wanted better photographs.”
My hand tightened around the phone. “Who else was there?”
“A man called Vincent Pike. He's the foundation's outside accountant.”
Olivia had planned the wedding for eighteen months. I'd listened to her compare roses and argue about the seating chart as if the exact shade of linen might determine the happiness of her marriage. Now her wedding photographs would always carry the memory of an ambulance. She had every right to grieve that loss. But grief could not make Mother's behavior acceptable. I hoped my sister would learn the distinction faster than I had.
The same accountant who'd smiled at our Christmas dinner and told jokes about how the rich never learned to balance a checkbook.
Olivia began crying harder. “He handed Mom a blue folder. She said if Grace signed before the ceremony, nobody would have to get upset.”
I remembered Grace describing papers in the dressing room. My sister wasn't defending Mother now. She sounded scared.
“Olivia, come to the hospital. Tell Priya everything you saw.”
“Mom said she'd cut me off if I talked.”
“You have a husband now. And me. You're not alone.”
After the call, I returned to Grace's bedside and told her about Lily. She held the photograph carefully. “Your father made mistakes,” she said. “But he tried to put something right. Somebody stopped him.”
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My phone buzzed. A message from the wedding planner, Caroline Marsh: I need to talk. Not over the phone. Please come alone.
Attached was a photo from the wedding setup. Evelyn and Vincent stood beside the champagne tower. On the table between them sat a tiny unlabeled bottle.
