Chapter 1: The Dress That Wasn't Supposed to Be Touched
“Your sister said you wouldn't mind if I helped her get inside.””
Marcus said it so casually that, for a moment, I thought I had misunderstood him.
I was standing in the bridal suite of the historic Hawthorne Estate, wearing my wedding robe, staring at what remained of my grandmother's wedding dress.
Three generations of women had worn that dress.
My grandmother, Eleanor, wore it when she married my grandfather in 1958. My mother wore it in 1986, after Grandma spent eleven months repairing the lace by hand. And today, I was supposed to be the third woman to walk down the aisle in it.
Instead, the ivory silk lay across the hardwood floor like something that had been murdered.
The bodice had been slashed.
The lace sleeves were torn away from the shoulders. A long, ugly cut ran down the front, and someone had poured red wine across the skirt.
My sister Vanessa stood near the window, holding a champagne glass.
She wasn't crying.
She wasn't apologizing.
She was examining her manicure.
“Oh, don't look at me like that, Olivia,” she said.
“It was already old.””
I couldn't speak.
My maid of honor, Rachel, covered her mouth.
“Vanessa, what the hell did you do?””
Vanessa sighed dramatically.
“I tripped. The dress caught on something. It was an accident.””
I looked at the scissors on the vanity.
Then at the perfectly straight cuts in the silk.
“An accident?”” I whispered.
She shrugged.
“Maybe you should have bought a new dress instead of treating an old piece of fabric like it's sacred.””
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
That dress wasn't just fabric.
Grandma Eleanor had sewn tiny initials into the inside of the waistline. Her own, my mother's, and mine. She used to say that every woman who wore it carried the courage of the women who came before her.
When she gave it to me six months ago, she held my hands and said something I hadn't understood.
“Whatever happens, Olivia, don't let anyone convince you that your family's history belongs to them.””
At the time, I thought she was talking about Vanessa.
Now I wasn't so sure.
“Who let you in here?”” I asked.
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“I had a key.””
“No, you didn't.””
“Marcus gave me one.””
My stomach dropped.
Marcus was my fiancé.
He had promised me that nobody would enter the bridal suite before the ceremony. He knew how important the dress was. He had personally arranged for a security guard to stand outside the hallway.
“Where is Marcus?”” I asked.
Vanessa took another sip of champagne.
“Probably getting ready to marry you. Unless you've changed your mind.””
Rachel immediately stepped between us.
“Don't start with her.””
Vanessa laughed.
“God, Rachel. You're still playing Olivia's bodyguard? It's exhausting.””
I ignored her and grabbed my phone.
Marcus answered on the second ring.
“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?””
“Did you give Vanessa access to the bridal suite?””
Silence.
Only for a second.
But I heard it.
“Olivia, listen. She told me she needed to retrieve something from the room.””
“You gave her a key?””
“She said you knew.””
“I didn't.””
He exhaled.
“It's not a big deal. We can get the dress cleaned.””
I stared at the destroyed lace.
“Marcus, someone cut it with scissors.””
“Okay, then we'll find a replacement.””
A replacement.
I almost laughed.
“There is no replacement. Your grandmother didn't spend eleven months repairing this dress. My grandmother did.””
“Olivia, please. Not today.””
Not today.
As though I were ruining his wedding by asking why my sister had destroyed something precious.
I ended the call.
Vanessa smiled.
“See? Marcus understands.””
I turned toward her.
“Get out.””
Her smile disappeared.
“What?””
“Get out of this room.””
“You can't be serious.””
“I'm getting married in two hours, and I don't want you anywhere near me.””
She placed her champagne glass on the vanity.
“You really are ungrateful. Mom and Dad always said you were spoiled, but I never realized how bad it was.””
I stepped toward the door and called security.
Vanessa's expression changed.
For the first time, she looked worried.
As the guard escorted her out, she leaned close enough to whisper.
“You should ask Mom why Grandma stopped speaking to Daniel.””
My blood ran cold.
Daniel.
I hadn't heard that name in years.
My grandmother's younger brother had supposedly died before I was born. At least, that's what my parents had always told me.
I turned around.
“What did you just say?””
Vanessa was already walking away.
“Ask your mother.””
Then she disappeared around the corner.
Rachel locked the door behind her.
“Olivia,” she said carefully, “who is Daniel?””
“I don't know.””
But that wasn't entirely true.
I remembered a name on an old photograph. A young man standing beside my grandmother, one hand resting on her shoulder.
On the back, in Grandma's handwriting, were four words:
Daniel. Before they betrayed us.
I had found that photograph when I was twelve.
My mother had taken it away and told me never to ask about it again.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Marcus appeared.
*Marcus:* Don't make this bigger than it needs to be. Vanessa made a mistake. Please don't embarrass me in front of everyone.
I read it twice.
Then another notification appeared.
This one was from my mother.
*Mom:* Olivia, whatever happens today, do NOT mention Daniel. Especially not in front of your father.
I stared at the screen.
My hands began to shake.
I hadn't told her about Vanessa's comment.
I hadn't mentioned Daniel to anyone.
So why was my mother already warning me?
And why did she sound terrified?
I looked at the empty space where Grandma's dress had been hanging.
Then I noticed something else.
The small wooden jewelry box that had been sitting beside it was gone.
Grandma's letters had been inside.
Every handwritten letter she had left me over the years.
Every birthday note. Every Christmas message. Every story about the women in our family.
All missing.
Rachel followed my gaze.
“Olivia, weren't those in there?””
I nodded.
She checked beneath the vanity, then opened the wardrobe.
Nothing.
I called Marcus again.
This time, he didn't answer.
And when I looked through the glass panel in the bridal suite door, I saw someone standing at the end of the hallway.
My father.
He was holding a folded piece of paper.
May you like
When our eyes met, he quickly shoved it into his jacket.
Then he walked away.
