Chapter 3

I focused on the cluster of uneven seed pearls near her temple.

Ava's smile faltered as she took in the heavy canvas duffel bag at my feet. She looked past me to Naomi, who stood waiting by the open door with her car keys.

"What's going on?" Ava asked, glancing between us.

Martin stepped into the foyer behind her, and Elise followed. His eyes went straight to the luggage by the coat rack before he reached for Ava's arm.

"Let's go into the living room." He tried to steer her away from the bags. "Claire and I need to handle something."

"You promised we were done hiding," Ava said. She pulled her arm out of his grip and took a step back, her gaze moving over the canvas duffel again.

She looked at me, her brow furrowed. "He said you wanted this. He told me you agreed to bring our families together today."

I opened Elise's message and turned the screen toward Ava.

"Thank you for not ruining her wedding."

Ava stared at the words, then turned toward Elise.

Elise shrank back against the wall. "He swore to me she knew about you," Elise said. "He told me she gave you the veil as a welcome gift."

"Stop talking, Elise," Martin snapped.

He turned his attention back to me, his jaw tight. "The brunch is still happening. Our guests can't know this family fell apart on Ava's wedding day."

"I canceled it," I said.

Martin froze. "You did what?"

"The caterers aren't coming," I told him.

"Are you out of your mind?" he said, stepping closer. "You're going to unpack those bags right now. You'll call them back, fix the schedule, and host my guests tomorrow morning."

Martin pointed at the bags again. I looked past his shoulder at the veil still pinned into Ava's hair.

"Give me back my mother's veil," I told Ava.

Ava hesitated. Her hand lifted slowly toward the antique lace pinned into her hair, her fingers hovering near the fabric.

Martin stepped between us, blocking my view of Ava.

"She gets one wedding day," he said. "Do you really have to hurt my daughter today?"

I pulled the duffel strap over my shoulder. Naomi picked up the empty cedar box.

"Claire."

I kept walking.

Martin followed us onto the porch. "Wait. We can talk about this after the brunch. Just leave the bags."

Naomi's sedan was still boxed in by the wedding vehicles. I stopped beside the passenger door and looked back at him.

"Move your car."

Martin came down the steps. "Where are you going?"

I waited.

"How long are you staying with Naomi?" he asked. "Claire, answer me."

"Move the car, Martin."

He pulled his keys from his pocket. "Fine. I'll move it. But you're coming home tomorrow. We can fix this before anyone finds out."

He backed the lead vehicle far enough for Naomi to get her sedan out. As I opened the passenger door, he hurried toward me.

"Claire, wait." His words came faster now. "Are you leaving me?"

I got into the car and shut the door.

Martin called before Naomi reached the end of the street. I silenced the phone.

On the second afternoon, the phone vibrated against the wood. The clinic's number appeared on the screen.

I picked it up and answered the call on the second ring.

"Claire?" the voice on the line asked. "This is the clinic. Your pathology report is ready."

I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, waiting for the nurse to say the results were benign.

The nurse paused. "Dr. Evans needs to see you today."