vff-AT MY STEPSISTER’S 500-GUEST WEDDING, THE SAME FAMILY WHO THREW ME OUT AT SIXTEEN LET ME STAND IN THE BACK OF THE BALLROOM LIKE I WASN’T EVEN BLOOD

there with my glass of water still in one hand, untouched and sweating against my palm, and I thought, not for the first time in my life, that cruelty becomes much easier for a room when it is performed by the bride.

Then a man’s voice cut through the laughter like a blade.

“Do you even know who she is?”

Everything stopped.

Not gradually. Instantly.

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