Why should I give him up too?
I fought to steady my voice. “And if I refuse?”
For a second, Mom looked stunned, as if the thought had never crossed her mind.
Then, the dressing room door burst open with a bang.
Nick stormed in, his expression cold. He snatched the knife from my mother’s hands and, without hesitation, slapped me across the face.
“Grace, you ungrateful wretch. How could you talk to Mom like that? It’s just a wedding—are you going to die without it?”
Dazed, it took me a moment to process the sting in my cheek. Then I lifted my head and let out a soft, bitter laugh.
“What if I said I really would die? What would you do then?”
My mother’s voice sharpened. “Don’t talk nonsense!”
She didn’t see the tears I was holding back. She continued scolding me, as if I were being difficult on purpose.
“You’ve been competing with Carrie since you were little. Now you have to copy her even in illness?”
Disappointment clouded Nick’s face. “Why are you being so unreasonable? She’s our sister. Shouldn’t we want her to live a happy, healthy life?”
His grip tightened around my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. He shot my mother a look.
“Do it. The ceremony’s about to start.”
My vision blurred as I looked at him. My throat tightened. I felt it hard to breathe.
When we were little, Nick used to say he’d protect me. That he’d take Dad’s place and spoil me like a princess. That he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.
But now, his face was filled with nothing but disgust—like he wanted to strangle me himself.
My mother stepped behind me, fingers reaching for the zipper of my wedding dress.
I clutched at the fabric, my voice hoarse as I begged her not to.
