Chapter 3 - The Midnight Standoff
The footage was captured from a vantage point just fifteen feet above the marble rotunda—from the private mezzanine reserved exclusively for the groom’s immediate family.
The audio was horrifyingly crisp.
The camera tracked Sutton standing on the third step from the landing, clutching a glass of prosecco. Her maid of honor, Briany, stood right behind her, laughing hysterically.
*"Look at her limping up here with that ridiculous cane,"* Sutton’s voice rang out through the speakers, dripping with malice. *"She thinks because she makes six figures assessing bridges, she’s better than me. She thinks Alden's family will actually respect her."*
*"What are you going to do?"* Briany whispered, giggling nervously into her glass.
Sutton smirked directly toward the camera's blind spot. *"I'm going to make sure she spends tomorrow watching my wedding from a hospital bed. Watch this clumsy bitch fall."*
Then came the visual evidence that no lawyer in the country could explain away.
As I reached the fifth step, extending my hand to offer Sutton the heirloom pearl bracelet our late grandmother had left for the first bride in the family, Sutton didn't simply bump into me. She hooked her left heel deliberately behind my brace, planted both palms firmly into my right shoulder, and shoved with full body weight.
The sickening *crack* of my femur striking the edge of the marble step echoed through the phone’s speakers so loudly that even Vesper winced. And then, there was Sutton’s laughter—bright, musical, and utterly psychotic—ringing out over my screams of agony.
"Who sent this to you?" Vesper asked, her knuckles whitening against the edge of the bed rail.
Before I could answer, my phone rang. The screen displayed my mother’s name: Eleanor.
I put it on speakerphone.
"Clara!" my mother’s shrill voice pierced the sterile air of the hospital room. "Where on earth are you? Do you have any idea the scene you caused tonight? Alden left the venue! He isn’t answering Sutton’s calls, his mother took their entire bridal party back to their wing, and it’s all because of your dramatic performance!"
"My leg is broken in three places, Mother," I said, keeping my tone leveled like a laser beam. "I'm in the trauma ward."
"Oh, stop exaggerating! You’ve always been fragile! You slipped because of those ridiculous practical shoes you insist on wearing! Sutton is in tears! She’s spent two years planning this weekend, and you ruined the rehearsal dinner!"
"Did you authorize forty-two thousand dollars to be charged to my corporate card tonight?" I asked.
A sudden, guilty pause swallowed the other end of the line. When Eleanor spoke again, the faux-outrage was tinged with panic. "That... that was a clerical misunderstanding. Stellin said you agreed to help with the logistics. You make more than enough money, Clara. You don't have a husband or children to support. Why must you hoard your wealth when your sister is trying to build a future?"
"I didn't authorize it, Eleanor."
"Don't call me Eleanor! I am your mother! You will delete whatever nasty thoughts you have, you will call the bank right now and authorize that payment, and you will have yourself discharged! You need to be in that front pew tomorrow morning, smiling, so Alden's parents see that our family is whole! If you humiliate us, Stellin will never speak to you again!"
"Tell Stellin," I said, locking eyes with Vesper, "that he should save his voice for the district attorney."
May you like
I hung up before she could screech again.
Vesper pulled a sleek fountain pen from her trench coat pocket and placed the legal binder across my lap. "Step one: we notify the fraud division of your commercial bank. Step two: we contact the general manager of The Grand Del Mar. And step three... we prepare your arrival."
