The venue office smelled of roses, printer ink, and panic.
Vivian sat across from me, still in her bridal robe, fists clenched in her lap. Daniel paced behind her, muttering into his phone. My parents stood near the door like reluctant witnesses to a trial.
Marisol set the contract on the desk.
“Final payment must be completed before ceremony services continue,” she said. “As the signed client, Claire may cancel or proceed. If canceled, the venue retains deposits under clause eleven.”
Vivian slammed her hand on the desk. “It’s my wedding!”
Marisol didn’t blink. “It is Claire’s contract.”
Daniel leaned forward. “We’ll pay after the ceremony.”
“No,” Marisol said.
“Put it on the bride’s card,” I said.
Vivian’s head snapped toward me.
Daniel stopped pacing.
My mother whispered, “Claire…”
I smiled lightly. “What? It’s her wedding.”
Vivian swallowed. “My card limit is—”
“Maxed?” I finished. “Yes, I know.”
Daniel pointed at me. “You had no right digging into our finances.”
“You charged my card,” I said. “You gave me every right to protect myself.”
Then I turned my phone toward Marisol. “These messages show attempted unauthorized billing, attempted contract reassignment, and planned fraudulent charges. I want written confirmation that no further payments under my name will be processed.”
Marisol nodded. “Of course.”
Vivian’s voice cracked. “Claire, please. Guests are arriving.”
Through the glass, guests moved in bright blurs across the courtyard. Music floated faintly—a violin warming up for a ceremony that now had no certainty.
I looked at my sister.
