Wisteria.
It had been over a year since I'd last seen her, and yet there she was — standing at my wedding like a ghost that had decided, on its own terms, that it was done staying buried.
So she hadn't died after all.
The moment I saw her, unease flooded through me, cold and immediate, the kind that bypasses thought entirely and goes straight to the body. Every person at this ceremony had been personally invited by Lewis. There was no way she had slipped through on her own. Someone on the inside had helped her — someone with enough influence and access to clear the space and create exactly the right opening at exactly the right moment.
Eleanor.
It had always been Eleanor. She had never stopped, not for a single day.
"Riley." Wisteria's voice was all silk and slow poison, calibrated to unsettle. "Still standing, I see. How fortunate for you. After everything, you're still breathing — and now you even have two precious little ones."
Kids.
