Chapter 12: The Wedding

The ballroom doors opened at eight on Saturday night, and three hundred people turned to see the bride.

I wore a plain ivory dress that Marcy had found in a consignment shop, with the tags cut off.

Marcy walked beside me in yellow, because she said no one would ever mistake her for the star.

My hands shook around a bouquet of white roses.

Gavin had sent that kind to my desk.

I had bought these myself, at a grocery store, for eleven dollars.

The band stopped in the middle of a bar.

Chandeliers hung over round tables set with silver, and on a stage at the far end of the room was a banner that said HAPPY SIXTH ANNIVERSARY, P & G.

Under it, at the head table, sat Philippa in a silver gown.

Gavin sat next to her in a black tuxedo.

Conrad Roswell sat at the end, with his cane across his lap.

I walked down the aisle between the tables.

I looked at every face I passed.

I wanted to remember who had watched.

Tobias waited at the foot of the stage in a black suit, with a judge in a dark robe beside him.

He didn't smile.

He watched me come with his gray-blue eyes steady and a little pale.

When I reached him, he held out his hand.

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