Chapter 3 - The Witness
The medical transport van pulled up beneath the grand, neoclassical portico of the oceanfront resort just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden-pink glow across the Atlantic. It was the evening before the official wedding ceremony, and the terrace was crowded with wealthy guests, politicians, and business associates sipping champagne under strings of fairy lights.
I maneuvered my titanium wheelchair down the ramp with Vesper walking beside me, pushing a rolling equipment case that looked suspiciously like a high-end camera rig.
As we glided through the glass doors into the main lobby, the ambient chatter died down. Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the room. My mother, draped in a beaded emerald evening gown, froze mid-conversation with a prominent local judge. Her face drained of color as she spotted my wheelchair, my heavy leg brace, and the cold, unyielding expression on my face.
""Fallon!"" Althia hissed, marching across the marble floor on stiletto heels, her fingers clawing at the air. ""What is the meaning of this? I told you to come privately for a quiet apology, not to parade your manufactured injuries in front of our guests!""
""Hello, Mother,"" I said, my voice carrying clearly across the quiet lobby. ""I received your message about the apology. I decided it would be much better to deliver it in person, with witnesses.""
From behind a marble pillar, our cousin Briany stepped out, her phone clutched nervously in her hand. But Briany wasn't smiling or recording for TikTok anymore. Her face was pale, and her eyes darted frantically toward Sutton, who was descending the grand staircase in a silk lounging robe, surrounded by her bridesmaids.
""Fallon?"" Sutton sneered, pausing on the third step from the bottom—the exact step where she had shoved me twenty-four hours earlier. ""Are you actually pathetic enough to roll yourself into my wedding venue in a wheelchair just to steal attention? Get her out of here, security! She's mentally unstable!""
Before any security guard could move, a dark figure stepped out from the shadow of the staircase archway.
It was Alden, Sutton's fiancé.
He wasn't wearing his tuxedo jacket. His collar was unbuttoned, his expression dark, carved out of pure stone. He looked directly at Sutton, then down at me, and finally at Briany.
""She isn't leaving, Sutton,"" Alden said, his voice cutting through the lobby like glass. ""And neither am I, until we clear up a few things.""
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Sutton’s arrogant smirk faltered. ""Alden, baby, what are you talking about? Listen to her, she's unhinged—""
""Shut up, Sutton,"" Alden snapped, turning his gaze to Briany. ""Tell everyone what you showed me on your phone ten minutes ago, Briany. Or should I play the unedited video for the entire resort?""
