Chapter 11: Unwell

Flora's POV

My mother read the headline out loud over her coffee.

"Ellery Wedding Ends in Chaos as Planner Has Public Breakdown."

She set the phone down.

"Chaos," she said. "You said no bride, and you handed a man his papers."

"That's the calmest breakdown I've ever had."

It was a gossip site that covered the coast.

Under the headline sat a photo of me in the center aisle, blurred, with my mouth open mid-word.

It looked like I was shouting.

I had not raised my voice once.

Below the photo was a quote from Judith.

"We're praying for Flora. She has been under terrible strain, and we hope she gets the help she needs."

The comment section already had four hundred replies.

I read the first three and put the phone face down.

It buzzed again at once.

A bride I had planned for last spring had written: [Hi Flora, so sorry, we're going to go in a different direction for the Nantucket weekend.]

A second client: [We're pausing everything for now.]

A third, from a hotel manager who had begged me to take his gala: [Please don't contact us this month.]

By nine o'clock, three clients were gone.

My assistant called from Saltmarsh House.

"The gala went fine," he said. "Nobody saw a thing. But Mrs. Ellery is telling people you walked out on the staff."

"I paid every one of you."

"I know. I told them. They don't care." His voice shook. "Flora, it's everywhere."

"Thank you for staying."

"I'm not staying. All twelve of us walked off the Ellery job this morning. We're coming to the cottage."

I turned toward the window.

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