From the moment Amy asked to speak with me alone, I sensed something was off. Dressed in her wedding gown, she looked calm on the outside, but her trembling hands told a different story. “I need you to give this to Leo,” she said, handing me a sealed white envelope. “After the ceremony. Not before.”
I asked what was in it, but she didn’t answer—just turned and walked away, her dress trailing like a ghost. The ceremony went off beautifully. Leo looked overjoyed. Amy walked down the aisle composed, even radiant, though her eyes seemed far away. I tried to shake the unease, telling myself it was wedding-day nerves. At the reception, laughter and champagne flowed—but something still felt off. Amy smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Leo, too, seemed distracted.
