Chapter 3 - THE QUESTION
The minister’s voice faltered.
For a second, the only sound in the grand stone chapel was the distant chirping of birds outside the tall arched windows and the heavy, ragged sound of my own breathing.
Two hundred guests stared directly at my foot.
A bright crimson circle had formed on the pristine white runner, spreading rapidly outward. The satin of the stiletto was soaked through, dark and glistening in the afternoon light.
“Marin,” Sutton repeated, her voice dropping into a harsh, controlled hiss that only those closest to the altar could hear. “Will you stop making a scene? Take the damn shoe off if you’re going to bleed everywhere, but do it quietly.”
I didn't take the shoe off. I couldn't. The friction alone made my vision blur at the edges.
Instead, I looked up from the floor and met Declan’s eyes across the altar.
Until that second, Declan had been looking at his bride with the mild, distracted patience of a man enduring a very long performance. But when he followed the trajectory of the whispers and saw the blood pooling on the white carpet, his expression shifted.
The color drained rapidly from his face. His carefully rehearsed wedding-day smile vanished, leaving behind a look of profound, chilling realization.
He stepped past the minister, ignoring the gasps from the front row, and walked straight toward me.
“Marin,” Declan said, his voice dropping into a tense, urgent register. “What happened?”
Before I could answer, Sutton intercepted him, grabbing his arm with a manicured hand and forcing a bright, trembling laugh for the benefit of the photographers.
“Nothing happened, Declan, darling,” she trilled, her voice pitching up into an overly sweet register. “My clumsy sister just can’t walk in normal shoes. She’s fine. Let’s keep going with the ceremony before we lose the light.”
Declan didn't look at her. He kept his eyes locked on my foot, then slowly shifted his gaze to the stiletto shoe resting on the blood-soaked carpet.
His eyes widened in sudden horror.
He bent down, ignoring the wedding dress tulle brushing against his trousers, and touched the side of the shoe. His fingers came away smeared with dark red.
May you like
He stood up slowly. His chest rose and fell in short, sharp breaths. He looked at Sutton, and the look in his eyes made my sister step back instinctively.
“Sutton,” Declan asked, his voice dead, flat, and carrying an edge of absolute terror that quieted the entire chapel. “What did you put inside it?”
