Chapter 1

The crystal glasses stopped clinking.

My father, mid-toast, lowered his glass. His smile, which had been for me just a moment ago, was now gone.

Everyone was looking at their phones. A notification had just gone off.

It was a post from my sister, Chloe. A picture of her on a plane, a bubbly caption underneath.

"Surprise! Got an earlier flight! See you soon, fam! #Homecoming"

My fiancé, Ethan, looked up from his phone, his eyes shining.

"She's coming home early," he said, not to me, but to the whole room.

My mother gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh, my baby! She's so thoughtful."

My brother, Liam, was already on his feet. "We have to go get her. The airport is an hour away."

My father nodded, grabbing his coat. "Of course. Ellie, you understand."

I didn't.

This was my rehearsal dinner. Mine and Ethan's. The room was full of our friends, our colleagues, the people who were supposed to celebrate our wedding tomorrow.

And my entire family, my fiancé included, was walking out on me for my sister.

"Wait," I said. My voice was small.

Ethan turned back, a flicker of annoyance on his face. "What is it, Ellie? It's Chloe. We can't just leave her stranded at the airport."

"I can call her an Uber," I said, my hands starting to tremble. "Or she can get a taxi."

My mother scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Elara. We're not letting your sister take a taxi alone at this hour. You're being selfish."

Selfish.

The word hung in the air of the half-empty room.

The remaining guests shifted uncomfortably in their seats. I could feel their pity. It was worse than anger.

Ethan gave me a look that was supposed to be reassuring. "We'll be back in a couple of hours. Just... handle things here. Okay?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He followed my parents and brother out the door, his steps quick and eager.

I was left standing alone in the middle of the room, the half-eaten plates and wilting flowers a monument to my humiliation. The manager came over, his face a mask of professional sympathy.

"Miss Vance? The bill..."

I nodded, my throat tight. I pulled out my own credit card and paid for the party they had all abandoned.

I drove home in silence.

In my room, the large glass jar on my desk was waiting. It was almost full.

I took a small slip of paper from the notepad next to it. My hand was steady now.

I wrote: They left my rehearsal dinner to pick Chloe up from the airport.

I rolled it up tightly, a tiny white scroll of pain. I dropped it into the jar. It settled among the others, a quiet sound of glass on glass.

It was the ninety-ninth note.

One more to go.