At the bridal shop, I saw fresh dark marks across my sister’s back. She whispered, “If I cancel, his father will ruin us.” I kissed her cheek and said, “Then we won’t cancel.” But by morning, the groom had no idea who was waiting at the aisle.

and called my father “sir.” The man whose father, Victor Vale, smiled like he was purchasing people instead of greeting them.

My hands curled into fists, but my voice stayed calm.

“Why?”

Mara gave a short, broken laugh.

“Because I told him I was scared.”

The seamstress slipped out of the room in tears.

Mara grabbed my wrists.

“Listen to me,” she pleaded. continue reading …