She smiled exactly the same way.
Beautiful. Perfect. Completely empty.
A chill crept down my spine. Memory has an unusual way of recognizing danger before reason catches up.
I quietly stepped back into the hallway. Oliver was watching my face.
“You heard enough?” he asked softly.
I looked at my watch. Forty-five minutes until the ceremony.
“My son doesn’t deserve to walk blindly into something he’ll regret.”
“What are you going to do?”
I took a slow breath.
“My son, Adrien, inherited a trust from his father.”
Oliver remained silent.
“The money becomes available only after he’s legally married.”
His eyes widened.
“So that’s what she meant.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Not yet.”
If I confronted Amelia without proof, she’d deny everything. Adrienne adored her. He would believe her before he’d believe me.
I couldn’t destroy his wedding because of suspicion alone.
I needed facts. Real evidence.
Pulling out my phone, I scrolled until I found the number of my oldest friend, Margaret. She had spent over 20 years working as a legal assistant before retiring.
If anyone knew how to uncover someone’s past quickly, it was Margaret.
As my finger hovered over the call button, I realized the happiest day of my son’s life had already begun slipping away. Unless I discovered the truth before the ceremony started, there might be no way to stop it.
Margaret answered on the second ring.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.
“I need your help,” I interrupted. “And I need you to trust me before asking any questions.”
The change in my voice must have alarmed her because she immediately became serious.
“What do you need?”
I gave her Amelia’s full name, date of birth, and the address where she had lived before moving to our city. Thankfully, I remembered those details from conversations we had shared during the engagement.
“I want you to search for anything unusual,” I said. “Court records, previous engagements, lawsuits—anything that might explain what I’ve just heard.”
There was a brief pause.
“I’ll start immediately,” Margaret replied. “Give me 15 minutes.”
“I may not have that long.”
“I’ll call as soon as I find something.”
The line disconnected.
I slipped my phone back into my purse and glanced toward the venue. Guests continued arriving with bright smiles, wrapped gifts, and bouquets of flowers.
They had no idea that just beyond those elegant walls, everything might be falling apart.
My younger sister, Elaine, spotted me from across the parking lot.
“There you are!” she called, waving excitedly. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
I forced a smile.
“I’ll be inside shortly.”
She seemed puzzled but hurried away before asking more questions. Oliver remained beside me without speaking.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
“For what?”
“For bringing this to you.”