My Sister Knew About the Missing Minutes
Chapter 03 - My Sister Knew About the Missing Minutes
Lauren said she had only meant that the bridal suite had been crowded and chaotic.
That was her first explanation.
Her second was that she had gone downstairs to find the florist.
Her third was that the photographer had asked everyone to clear the room.
Each version sounded reasonable on its own.
Together, they made my skin go cold.
Daniel pulled out a chair.
“Start again.”
Lauren looked offended. “Excuse me?”
“Tell us exactly what happened.”
“This isn’t an interrogation.”
“No,” I said quietly. “It’s my wedding.”
The room went still.
Lauren sat across from me.
She was thirty-one, three years younger than I was, with the same dark eyes our father had and the same habit of tapping one finger against her thumb when she was nervous.
She was doing it now.
She told us that at 3:18 p.m., the photographer took the bridesmaids to the courtyard. I stayed behind for a few minutes while the seamstress adjusted my veil.
At 3:24, the seamstress left.
At 3:26, I went to the restroom with my mother.
At 3:40, I returned.
Fourteen minutes.
The dress had remained in the bridal suite because I had not put on the outer skirt yet.
“Who could get into the room?” Daniel asked.
“Anyone in the wedding party,” Lauren said.
“Anyone else?”
She shrugged. “Staff. Maybe.”
My mother frowned.
“How do you know the exact times?”
Lauren looked at her.
“The photographer’s schedule.”
But Daniel was already shaking his head.
“There was no fourteen-minute block on the printed schedule.”
Lauren’s face changed.
Only for a second.
Then she stood.
“I am not doing this tonight.”
“Lauren,” I said.
“No. My sister has just been humiliated in front of everyone she knows, and you’re treating me like I planted that thing.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She grabbed her purse.
I watched her cross the room.
Something inside me wanted to call her back, apologize, and return to the version of my life where Lauren and I fought about cake flavors and Christmas schedules instead of knives hidden beneath wedding gowns.
But another part of me remembered the engraving.
Carter & Daughters.
After she left, Daniel sat beside me.
“Emily, I need to tell you something.”
I laughed once, without humor.
“Tonight seems to be full of that.”
He reached inside his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
It was a printout from our bakery’s business account.
Three transfers were circled in red.
$24,000.
$31,500.
$29,800.
I stared at the numbers.
“Why do you have this?”
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“Because last week, I found eighty-five thousand three hundred dollars missing from the bakery renovation fund.”
I looked toward the door Lauren had just walked through.
Then back at him.
“And you were going to tell me when?”
May you like
His answer destroyed the last peaceful thing left from my wedding day.
“After the honeymoon.”
