THE MAID KICKED THE BRIDE IN FRONT OF EVERYONE—BUT WHAT THE GROOM FOUND BESIDE HER LEFT HIM TERRIFIED!

For one second nobody moved. Then the ballroom broke apart.

Guests pushed toward the exits. Someone knocked over a candlelit centerpiece. Security guards ran in, radios shrieking. Ethan dropped beside Olivia and pressed two fingers to her neck. A pulse: fast but real. He had never been so grateful for such a small thing.

"Call an ambulance," he told the nearest guard. "And nobody takes that syringe."

Mara knelt on Olivia's other side. "She hit her head. Keep her still."

"You kicked her," Ethan said.

"Yes. Ask me why when she's breathing in an ambulance."

Ethan's father, Charles Whitmore, approached in a midnight tuxedo. Silver hair, perfect posture, a face trained to look disappointed instead of afraid. "This woman assaulted my daughter-in-law. Arrest her."

"The girl said something," Ethan replied.

Charles glanced up at the stairs. "Children repeat nonsense when they're frightened."

The little girl stepped down one stair, then stopped when Vale looked her way. Mara saw it too. She bolted toward the staircase, but a security guard caught her arm.

"Get your hands off me!" she said.

"You're going nowhere," Charles told her.

Ethan looked from the doctor to the child. "What's her name?"

"Lily," Mara answered. "Lily Mercer."

"Why is she here?"

"Because your wife invited her."

That was impossible. Olivia had insisted on a small ceremony until Charles turned it into a spectacle with three hundred names Ethan barely knew. He had never heard of Lily Mercer.

The paramedics arrived. As they stabilized Olivia's neck, she opened her eyes for a heartbeat. Her lips moved. Ethan bent close.

"The blue room," she breathed.

"What blue room?"

"Don't let him..."

Her eyes slid shut again.

Mara fought free and ran up the steps. Lily grabbed her hand. "I saw the silver box," she told her. "The man in the green dress took it."

"A woman?" Mara asked.