Part 2The Bride They Left to Die

My overnight bag slipped from my hand, and the folder with my medical records slid halfway out. Mom bent down, picked it up, and shoved it under the shoe rack without looking inside.

"More tests for your headaches? Deal with that later. Today's supposed to be a happy day."

The photographer had already set up in the living room. Curtis walked over and smoothed my collar.

"Stop acting like you're the one being wronged. Once Shannon's happy, I'm still going home with you tonight."

Shannon dropped a white dress at my feet. It was the cheapest bridesmaid dress from the shop.

"Put it on. Don't keep everyone waiting."

Still smiling, she opened the master bedroom door. Wedding photos of Curtis and me covered the walls, except my face had been cut out of every picture and replaced with Shannon's.

A check-in slip sat beneath one of the frames. It had Curtis and Shannon's names on it, dated the same night he proposed to me.

That night, Curtis said something urgent came up at work and left me sitting alone at the restaurant for four hours. When he finally came home after midnight, he held me and apologized.

"Once we're married, I'll make up for all the time I haven't been there."

So he wasn't at work. He was at a hotel with Shannon.

My fingers tightened around the receipt, crumpling it. Curtis reached for it, but I pulled it out of his reach.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Don't ask questions that'll only make things worse," he said quietly. "Shannon just came back. She's been having a hard time, so I've been there for her."

"At a hotel?"

Richard snatched the receipt from my hand.

"They're adults. So they stayed at the same hotel. Why are you making it sound dirty? If Curtis didn't love you, would he have stayed with you for seven years?"

"Seven years?" Shannon leaned back against the couch, slowly turning the pink diamond on her finger.

"Every single year he was with Leslie, Curtis still spent my birthday with me. He always said she was so clingy that he could barely get away."

The words hit me like a blow.

Ten years ago, I was standing in line at the mall to buy Mom a birthday cake when Shannon started begging to go look at the stuffed animals. I told her to wait by the counter for three minutes, but when I came back, she was gone.

The police searched for a full year and found nothing.

Back then, Mom held me while I cried and told me it wasn't my fault. Dad stayed by my bed because he was afraid I would do something to myself, and Richard even threw away all the missing-person flyers.

"No one bring this up around Leslie again."

I thought they were protecting me.

Now, I realized they were just keeping me comfortable inside a lie they had already decided to maintain.

"When did you find her?"

The room went quiet for a moment before Mom stood up.

"Today's supposed to be a happy day. Why are you dragging all this up now?"

"I'm just asking when she came back," I said.

"Leslie, don't do this to Mom," Shannon said, her eyes filling with tears. "No matter how long I've been back, it doesn't change the fact that you're the reason I disappeared."

Curtis immediately pulled her into his arms. "It's alright. I'm here."

The pink diamond flashed against his shirt, and the sight of it made my chest tighten.

I had gone back to the jewelry store five times just to look at that ring, but Curtis always said it was too expensive, and there was no point spending that much on a wedding.

The last time, I leaned over the display case and joked, "Once I finish this illustration project and get paid, I'll buy it myself."

He tapped the tip of my nose. "Who buys her own engagement ring? Just wait. I'll get you something even better."

That "something better" turned out to be a plain band that cost a couple hundred bucks. Meanwhile, the pink diamond sat on Shannon's finger.

"Take it off," I said to Shannon, who immediately moved closer to Curtis.

Dad frowned. "It's just a ring. Are you really going to fight with your own sister over it?"

"It was bought with my money," I said.

Before the wedding, Curtis told me the new house needed work and transferred 50 grand out of our joint account. He promised every cent would go toward our home.

I looked around at the new bedding, Shannon's bridal shoes, and the flowers scattered through the house.

He hadn't exactly lied. The money had gone toward setting up a home. It just wasn't going to be mine.

"It's marital property. What difference does it make who spends it?" Curtis said, still using that same gentle tone.

"Helping Shannon feel secure is part of making up for what happened to her. You always say you love me. Are you really going to hold a little money against her?"

My stomach churned, and I hurried to the bathroom, where I spent the next several minutes dry-heaving.

By the time I came back out, Richard had gone through my overnight bag. My medication bottles sat in a neat row on the coffee table.

"Painkillers, sedatives, anti-nausea medication."

Shannon picked up one of the bottles.

"Leslie, you really came prepared just to get out of apologizing."

"Put that down."

I hurried toward her, but another wave of dizziness sent me stumbling into the table. The bottle hit the floor, and white pills scattered everywhere.

Mom didn't move to help me. She stepped in front of Shannon instead. "Why are you scaring her?"

I looked straight at her. "Those are my medications."

"If you have a headache, deal with it for a little while," Dad said, glancing at the clock. "The photographer charges by the hour. Stop wasting time."

Shannon crouched and started gathering the pills. "I'll put them back for you, Leslie."

She dropped them into the bottle, but when she passed the sink, she tipped her hand and sent the pills straight down the drain. Then, she turned on the faucet.

Curtis saw exactly what she did. He just took her hand and dried her wet fingers.

"Don't touch stuff off the floor. Mom can get Leslie more medicine."