Chapter 3
No one moved.
James stared at his father.
“What did you say?”
Charles looked sick.
Patricia released his arm.
“Charles.”
His voice dropped.
“I saw you leave.”
Patricia’s eyes hardened.
“You don’t know what you saw.”
“I watched you take the Cadillac at five fifty.”
A murmur moved through the church.
My stomach dropped.
Rebecca had written that Patricia called her at 5:47.
Three minutes before Charles claimed Patricia left home.
James looked between his parents.
“Mom?”
Patricia squared her shoulders.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Where did you go?”
“I drove around.”
The answer was almost identical to James’s.
I laughed once.
It didn't sound like me.
“Apparently the entire Miller family likes mysterious sunrise drives.”
Patricia glared at me.
“This does not concern you anymore.”
I held up Rebecca’s letter.
“You made sure it concerned me.”
Sophie moved closer to my side.
Patricia noticed.
Her expression softened immediately.
Too quickly.
“Sophie, sweetheart.”
Sophie recoiled.
“Don't.”
Patricia stopped.
Sophie’s voice trembled.
“You scared Mommy.”
Patricia looked around at the watching guests.
“I was trying to help your mother.”
“You yelled at her.”
“Sophie.”
“You said Daddy needed Claire more than he needed us.”
James closed his eyes.
Noah began crying.
My mother crouched beside him.
“It’s okay, honey.”
But it wasn't okay.
Nothing about this was okay.
I looked toward Rachel.
“Call the police.”
Patricia snapped, “Absolutely not.”
Rachel was already dialing.
James grabbed my elbow.
“Claire, wait.”
I pulled away.
“Do not touch me.”
“You don't know what happened.”
“Neither do you, apparently.”
His voice fell.
“I can explain the children.”
I stared at him.
“That sentence should never have to come out of the mouth of a man standing at his wedding.”
He flinched.
“Rebecca and I were young.”
“You were twenty-nine.”
“It was complicated.”
“You keep using that word as if it turns lies into accidents.”
“Claire, I loved her.”
Sophie looked at him.
His eyes met hers.
For a moment, I saw something real.
Pain.
Maybe even love.
It only made me angrier.
Because loving them had not stopped him from denying them.
James swallowed.
“I did love Rebecca.”
“Did?”
His face changed.
I understood before he spoke.
“I still care about her.”
My wedding guests went silent again.
I felt strangely calm.
“Thank you.”
He frowned.
“For what?”
“For finally saying one true thing today.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Patricia’s composure cracked.
“You called them?”
Rachel lifted her phone.
“Yes.”
Patricia looked at Charles.
“You are destroying your own family.”
Charles stared at her.
“No.”
His eyes shifted toward Sophie and Noah.
“I think we did that years ago.”
Two officers entered the church.
Then another.
Guests moved aside.
Rachel explained quickly.
The first officer asked for Rebecca’s letter.
I gave him a copy from the envelope while keeping the original.
He read the last paragraph.
His expression changed.
“Mrs. Miller?”
Patricia lifted her chin.
“Yes?”
“Do you own a black Cadillac Escalade?”
Nobody breathed.
Patricia hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“At home.”
Charles answered before she could.
“No, it isn’t.”
Patricia spun toward him.
“Charles.”
He continued.
“She came back around seven. The front bumper was damaged. She said she hit a mailbox.”
The officer looked at Patricia.
Her face went pale.
James whispered, “Mom.”
“I did hit a mailbox.”
“Which mailbox?” the officer asked.
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you report it?”
“No.”
“Where is the vehicle now?”
Patricia said nothing.
Charles did.
“At Miller Construction’s warehouse on Fourth Avenue.”
Patricia stared at him with pure hatred.
“You coward.”
Charles seemed to age ten years in front of me.
“You told me nobody was hurt.”
James stepped toward them.
“What did she tell you?”
Patricia turned away.
“Nothing.”
Charles shook his head.
“She came home shaking. She said Rebecca had followed her. She said there had been an accident.”
Sophie gasped.
My mother immediately pulled her closer.
I felt sick.
“You knew?”
Charles looked at me.
“I didn’t know Rebecca was in the hospital.”
“But you knew there had been an accident.”
“Yes.”
“And you came to our wedding.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
I could barely speak.
“You stood beside your son while he married me.”
Charles looked at the floor.
The officer separated Patricia from the rest of us.
Another officer began speaking to Charles.
James looked as if his entire life were falling apart.
I felt no sympathy.
Not yet.
Maybe never.
I turned toward Sophie.
“We’re going to your mom.”
She nodded.
The four of us left the church through the side entrance.
My wedding dress dragged behind me across the pavement.
People stared.
I didn’t care.
A white limousine waited at the curb.
The same limousine that was supposed to carry James and me to our reception.
I opened the door for the children.
“No.”
Sophie shook her head.
I paused.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked at the white flowers tied to the handles.
“It looks like a wedding car.”
My chest tightened.
“You’re right.”
I ripped the flowers off.
Rachel helped.
My mother removed the ribbon.
Ten seconds later, the limousine looked ordinary enough.
Sophie climbed inside.
Noah followed.
I sat across from them in my wedding gown.
Noah stared at me.
“Are you still getting married?”
“No.”
“Because of us?”
The question nearly destroyed me.
I leaned forward.
“No.”
He watched me carefully.
“Are you mad we came?”
“Not even a little.”
His lip trembled.
“Mommy said you might be.”
I reached for his hand.
“Your mommy saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”
Sophie looked out the window.
“She said you looked nice.”
I blinked.
“She’s seen me?”
Sophie nodded.
“Pictures.”
“From James?”
Her face changed.
“No.”
“From who?”
“Grandma Patricia.”
My mother and I exchanged a look.
Patricia had shown Rebecca my photos.
Why?
To intimidate her?
To prove James had moved on?
To remind her what she was supposedly standing in the way of?
The thought made my stomach twist.
We reached St. Thomas Midtown twenty minutes later.
My wedding dress attracted attention the second I entered the emergency department.
A nurse hurried toward us.
“Sophie?”
Sophie ran to her.
“Aunt Laura!”
The woman dropped to her knees and hugged both children.
She was maybe thirty-five.
Dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail.
Exhaustion carved deep lines around her eyes.
She looked up at me.
Then at the dress.
“You're Claire.”
I nodded.
“Rebecca sent them to my wedding.”
Laura closed her eyes.
“She actually did it.”
“You knew?”
“She called me from the ambulance.”
Laura stood.
“I was supposed to pick them up at the church afterward.”
My mother frowned.
“Afterward?”
Laura looked embarrassed.
“Rebecca thought Claire would want proof directly from the children.”
“She sent seven- and five-year-olds into a church alone?”
“She had no other choice. I was here signing medical forms and trying to get permission to see her. Sophie insisted she could do it.”
Sophie lifted her chin.
“Mommy said Claire needed the truth.”
Laura's eyes filled with tears.
“She did.”
I glanced toward the treatment doors.
“How is Rebecca?”
Laura's face tightened.
“She has a concussion and broken ribs. They’re monitoring her for internal bleeding.”
“Is she awake?”
“On and off.”
“Can I see her?”
Laura looked surprised.
Then she nodded.
“She asked for you.”
I looked down at myself.
White gown.
Veil still pinned into my hair.
I suddenly couldn't stand it.
“Rachel.”
She understood immediately.
She took off her jacket.
I pulled the veil free.
Then I unfastened the lace sleeves of the dress, rolled the long train over my arm, and followed Laura through the hall.
Rebecca’s room was dim.
She looked smaller than I expected.
Bruises covered one side of her face.
Her left arm was in a sling.
There was a bandage near her temple.
Her eyes opened when I entered.
For several seconds, she just stared at me.
Then she noticed the dress.
“Oh, God.”
Her voice was rough.
“I’m sorry.”
I walked closer.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I ruined your wedding.”
“No.”
I pulled a chair beside the bed.
“You stopped me from ruining my life.”
She looked toward the door.
“The kids?”
“They’re safe.”
She exhaled.
“Thank God.”
I sat down.
“I read both letters.”
Rebecca looked frightened.
“What did James say?”
“He denied knowing them for about thirty seconds.”
Her eyes closed.
“That sounds like James.”
I hesitated.
“His father says Patricia was driving around the time of your crash.”
Rebecca opened her eyes instantly.
“What?”
“He says her SUV came home damaged.”
Rebecca’s breathing changed.
“Rebecca?”
She stared toward the wall.
“It was black.”
My pulse jumped.
“The car that hit you?”
“I only saw it for a second.”
“Was it Patricia?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice shook.
“She called me.”
“At 5:47?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“You saw that in the letter?”
“Yes.”
“She said she wanted to meet.”
“Where?”
“A coffee shop near Charlotte Avenue.”
“Why that early?”
“She said we needed to fix everything before your wedding.”
“Did she show?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“No.”
“What happened?”
“I waited fifteen minutes. Then she called again.”
“What did she say?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled with fear.
“She told me James had agreed to something.”
“What?”
“She wouldn’t explain.”
I leaned closer.
“Rebecca.”
She looked at me.
“She said if I cared about my children, I would take them and leave Tennessee before noon.”
Cold spread through me.
“What did you do?”
“I told her I was done being afraid.”
Rebecca’s voice cracked.
“I told her I was coming to the church.”
“And then?”
“I started driving back toward Laura’s apartment.”
She gripped the sheet.
“I noticed a black SUV behind me.”
“Did it follow you?”
“For about ten minutes.”
My heart pounded.
“Then what?”
“I slowed down.”
Rebecca’s face tightened with the memory.
“It came closer.”
“Did it hit you intentionally?”
“I don’t know.”
She began crying.
“I honestly don’t know.”
I took her good hand.
“You don’t have to remember everything right now.”
“I have to.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand.”
Her eyes opened wide.
“This isn’t just about Patricia.”
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
Rebecca looked toward the door.
Then back at me.
“Close it.”
I did.
She lowered her voice.
“James came to my apartment Thursday night.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She tightened her fingers around mine.
“You know what he admitted in the letter.”
I sat back down.
“There’s more?”
She nodded.
“He didn’t just ask me to stay quiet.”
“What did he ask?”
“He wanted the children.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“For what?”
“He said they needed to live with him.”
“With you?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
“Then where?”
“He said after your wedding, he was going to move them into a house his company owns.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“He said the trust required proof that he was actively supporting his children.”
My stomach turned.
Rebecca continued.
“He needed photographs. School records. An address. Proof they lived under his financial care.”
“He was going to use them to unlock his trust.”
“Yes.”
“And he still planned to hide them from me?”
Rebecca looked at me sadly.
“He said you would understand later.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course he did.”
“There’s something else.”
My body went still.
Rebecca reached beneath her pillow.
She pulled out a small key.
Not a house key.
A safe-deposit key.
She placed it in my palm.
“James gave me that six months ago.”
“Why?”
“He thought his mother was going to destroy some records.”
“What records?”
“He wouldn't tell me then.”
“Where is the box?”
“First Tennessee Bank downtown.”
My fingers closed around the key.
“Whose name is it under?”
“Mine.”
I stared at her.
“Why yours?”
“Because James said nobody in his family could know it existed.”
A terrible feeling settled over me.
“What’s inside?”
Rebecca met my eyes.
“I don't know everything.”
“Tell me what you do know.”
She hesitated.
Then whispered, “The night James gave me that key, he was drunk.”
I waited.
“He said his mother had built their entire family on one lie.”
“What lie?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled with fear.
“He said Charles Miller wasn’t really in control of Miller Construction.”
I frowned.
“Then who is?”
May you like
Rebecca looked directly at me.
“You are.”
