Chapter 1: The Secret Behind February
"Vanessa didn't start trying to get me alone in February.""
Daniel's voice was so quiet that I had to press the phone harder against my ear.
"What do you mean?""
He exhaled shakily.
"Emma, she approached me three months before that. At your birthday dinner.""
I stared at the wedding dress hanging opposite my bed.
My birthday dinner.
It had been at a little Italian restaurant downtown. Vanessa had arrived early, helped me decorate the table, and presented me with a silver necklace she'd supposedly spent weeks choosing.
Daniel had kissed my forehead when he arrived.
Vanessa had watched him do it.
"Tell me exactly what happened," I said.
"She waited until you went to the bathroom. Then she told me she thought I was making a mistake.""
I closed my eyes.
"What kind of mistake?""
"Marrying you.""
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything except the hum of the hotel's air conditioning.
Daniel continued.
"She said you were too dependent on me. That you wanted a wedding more than you wanted a marriage. She told me you had been having doubts about us.""
"What?""
"I know. I told her she was wrong.""
"Did she believe you?""
"No. She said she knew things about you that I didn't.""
My stomach tightened.
"What things?""
"She wouldn't tell me. She just kept saying that eventually I'd understand.""
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
Vanessa knew about my previous relationship. She knew about my father's death, the financial difficulties I'd experienced during my twenties, and the months I'd spent rebuilding my confidence after my ex-fiancé had cheated.
She knew every vulnerable part of my life.
And apparently, she'd been collecting those details like ammunition.
"Why didn't you tell me?"" I whispered.
"I didn't want to create problems between you and your best friend over something that might have been nothing.""
"Daniel, she told you not to marry me.""
"I know. And I should have told you. I was wrong.""
His voice cracked.
"I thought she'd eventually stop.""
I looked at the recording on my phone.
Four minutes and eleven seconds.
Four minutes had exposed six months of friendship as something much uglier.
"Did she ever contact you privately?""
"Yes.""
"How many times?""
"Emma...""
"How many?""
He paused.
"At least twelve.""
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
"Twelve?""
"Mostly messages. A few calls. She'd ask whether I was happy, whether I felt understood, whether I thought you were ready for marriage.""
"What did you say?""
"That I loved you.""
"Every time?""
"Every single time.""
I wanted to believe him.
But trust, I was discovering, wasn't a switch you could turn back on simply because someone offered an explanation.
"Did you ever meet her alone?""
"No. Not intentionally.""
"What does that mean?""
"She showed up at my office once. She said she'd been shopping nearby and wanted to say hello.""
I gripped the phone.
"When?""
"Six weeks ago.""
Six weeks.
The same week Vanessa had volunteered to collect the wedding rings from the jeweller.
"Did you tell her to leave?""
"Yes. I told her I was working and asked her not to come by again.""
"And?""
"She said she was worried about you.""
I laughed once.
It sounded nothing like laughter.
"Of course she did.""
"Emma, listen to me. I don't want her. I have never wanted her.""
I stared at the handwritten vows beside my bed.
I'd written them myself, spending three evenings trying to find the right words.
I had promised to choose Daniel even on the days when choosing each other would be difficult.
Now I was wondering whether I'd been the only person in our relationship who had misunderstood what tomorrow was supposed to mean.
"Daniel, I need you to do something.""
"Anything.""
"Tomorrow, don't go anywhere alone with Vanessa. Not for a conversation, not for a photograph, not because she says something is wrong.""
"Done.""
"And don't tell her you've heard the recording.""
"I won't.""
I swallowed.
"One more thing. Did she ever say anything about the wedding rings?""
There was a pause.
"Why?""
"Because she volunteered to keep them.""
"Emma, I thought you knew.""
"Knew what?""
"She told me she'd already collected them from the jeweller.""
My blood ran cold.
"She hasn't.""
"What?""
"I checked the box before I went to bed. It was empty.""
Daniel went silent.
Then he said, "The jeweller called me yesterday.""
I stood up.
"What did they say?""
"They asked whether the rings had been delivered to the correct address.""
My mouth went dry.
"Which address?""
"Vanessa's.""
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Daniel whispered, "Emma, I think she's already started.""
I looked at the connecting door.
The narrow strip of light beneath it had disappeared.
I checked the time.
3:07 a.m.
"Don't move," I told him.
"Where are you going?""
"To find out what she's done.""
I ended the call before he could argue.
I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my room key, and opened the door.
The corridor was empty.
At the far end, a housekeeping trolley stood beside the elevators. Somewhere behind a closed door, a television murmured.
I walked toward the rooms occupied by my bridesmaids.
Vanessa's door was slightly open.
I could see the edge of a pink suitcase and a pair of silver heels.
I knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again.
"Vanessa?""
A mattress creaked.
Then the door opened.
She stood there wearing a silk champagne-coloured robe, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.
For half a second, her expression was unreadable.
Then she smiled.
"Emma? What's wrong?""
I looked past her.
On the desk sat an open jewellery box.
My jewellery box.
The one I'd left in the bridal suite.
Beside it was a small velvet pouch.
"Couldn't sleep," I said.
Vanessa glanced at the clock on the bedside table.
"Neither could I. Wedding nerves, right?""
"Something like that.""
She opened the door wider.
"Come in. I was just having some water.""
I stepped inside.
Chloe was asleep on the sofa. Another bridesmaid, Jessica, lay under a blanket near the window.
Vanessa followed my gaze.
"They're exhausted. We've been up talking.""
I looked at the jewellery box again.
"What's that?""
Vanessa turned.
"Oh, just checking the things for tomorrow.""
"Why is my jewellery box here?""
She blinked.
Then she laughed.
"Emma, you left it with me earlier. Remember?""
I didn't.
But I also knew better than to challenge her without evidence.
"Right," I said.
Vanessa approached the desk and closed the lid.
"Everything's under control. You should get some sleep.""
I watched her hand settle on the velvet pouch.
"Have you got the rings?""
Her smile didn't move.
"Of course.""
"Can I see them?""
A fraction of a second passed.
Then she shook her head.
"Why?""
"I just want to check.""
"Emma, they're perfectly safe.""
"I didn't ask whether they were safe. I asked to see them.""
Her expression changed.
It was subtle, but I saw it.
The warmth disappeared from her eyes.
"You're being strange.""
"Am I?""
"Yes. It's three in the morning. You're getting married in a few hours, and you're acting like something terrible has happened.""
I held her gaze.
"Has something terrible happened?""
She smiled again.
"Not unless you count getting married to the love of your life.""
I almost admired how quickly she could lie.
Almost.
"Goodnight, Vanessa.""
I turned toward the door.
Behind me, she said, "Emma?""
I stopped.
"Yes?""
"Whatever you're worrying about, don't let it ruin tomorrow.""
I looked over my shoulder.
Her fingers were still wrapped around the velvet pouch.
"I'll try.""
Then I left.
Back in Room 814, I locked the door and called the hotel duty manager.
A man named Martin answered after the second ring.
"Good morning, Hawthorne Grand. How can I help?""
"My name is Emma Collins. I'm getting married here tomorrow, and I need to speak to someone about a security issue.""
His tone immediately changed.
"Of course, Ms. Collins. Is everything all right?""
"No. Someone has accessed my bridal suite without permission, and I believe they may be interfering with the wedding arrangements.""
"Would you like us to send security?""
"Yes. And I need you to preserve the corridor camera footage.""
"Certainly.""
I hesitated.
"One more thing. Can you tell me who requested access to Room 814 using a staff key?""
There was a pause.
"May I ask why?""
"Because I believe my maid of honour has been entering my room.""
Martin typed something.
Then he stopped.
"Ms. Collins?""
"Yes?""
"We have a record of a master-key entry at 1:46 a.m.""
My stomach dropped.
"Who requested it?""
"One moment.""
I heard more typing.
May you like
Then Martin said something that made my knees weaken.
"The request was made under the name of your wedding planner.""
