I slipped away and confronted Richard. “You can’t just hand me a note like that. Not today. I need an explanation.”
He broke. “Do you remember meeting Daniel? At the café? He was waiting for you. Miranda told him where and when to go, what to say. She orchestrated everything.”
I reeled. “You’re saying it wasn’t chance?”
“No. It started after your grandmother passed. Miranda was working probate intake at the firm. She saw your name connected to the house. That was all it took.”
“And Daniel went along with it?”
“He didn’t want to. He said it felt like a setup. But Miranda pressed the same bruises she always does — guilt, fear. By the third date, it was real. He tried to tell you, but the longer he waited, the harder it got.”
I hurried back, fire in my chest.
At the altar, Daniel reached for me. “Lia?”
“Did you really just happen to be at the café, or did someone send you?”
His throat bobbed. “I was there because Mom told me you’d be there.”
He unlocked his phone, hands shaking, and showed me a message thread labeled Mom.
