I know how she did things, okay? And he responds when I do them the same way.
It feels natural. Like I belong here, like I’ve always belonged here. Adrienne was just a placeholder.
I felt sick.
My jaw dropped.
“This wasn’t comfort. Lena maneuvered herself into Mom’s place!”
“I should have stopped it. I told myself grief makes people act strangely, maybe more so for twins.
I told myself I couldn’t lose another daughter.” Her voice broke.
“Sometimes I wonder if I failed them both.”
“Dad needs to know this.”
I checked the time, and forgot how to breathe.
“They’re getting married in a few minutes!”
Grandma reached for my hand. “You don’t have to go back.”
“I do.
Someone needs to expose the truth.”
The taxi ride back seemed to last a lifetime. By the time Grandma and I rushed into the venue, the ceremony had already begun. Lena stood at the front in white, beaming at Dad while he said his vows.
I stepped forward before I could think.
The word cut through the room.
My father turned.
“I’m not confused, and I’m not acting out of grief. Dad, you can’t marry her.”
Lena’s smile dropped. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because this marriage isn’t about love.
It’s about replacement.”
Murmurs rippled through the rows.
I held up the tablet. “Lena, you’ve been copying my mother for years. Her mannerisms.
Her role. And when she died, you didn’t just help my dad. You stepped into her life.”
I turned to my father.
“She knew what you needed because she studied it. She didn’t fall in love with you. She waited until you were too broken to tell the difference.”
Silence.
My father looked at Lena.
“Is that true?”
She glanced at the guests, then back at him.
Dad took a step back from her.
The officiant lowered his hands.
“I think we should pause,” Dad said.
“I think… I can’t do this.”
Lena’s voice cracked. “How can you say that? This was supposed to be my chance.”
I stepped back, my heart pounding but lighter than it had been in a year.
For the first time since my mother died, the truth wasn’t being smoothed over.
And this time, I hadn’t stayed quiet.
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