Part 1The Stand-In In My Wedding Portrait

On our wedding photoshoot day, my fiancé Gary brought his childhood best friend Mindy to pose in my place. I lacked poise, he said, and bad photos would ruin his reputation. Over the years, Mindy had stood in for me at high-profile events. Gary called it an innocent game, telling me not to take it to heart. Now he wanted her in our wedding portraits.

Mindy stood before me in a gown identical to mine. Makeup, hair, diamond earrings, every detail matched. "What do you think, Rachel?" she teased. "I bet three days before anyone realizes I'm not you." Gary wrapped an arm around her waist, smirking. "Joe just called her my future bride. That's one down." Mindy flashed her phone. "I'm standing in for your mother's birthday gala too. If I win, you hang our portrait in the master bedroom. If I lose, I'll get plastic surgery to look just like her." Gary agreed without hesitation. He didn't even ask me.

Staring in the mirror at two identical brides, the truth clicked. That was why he'd insisted on altering my dress dimensions weeks ago. I reached back and unlaced the bodice. "She can keep the dress. It suits her better." I grabbed my phone and canceled the hotel reservation for his mother's party. A fake was a fake. No matter how convincing, there was only one real me.

…

"Rachel, are you seriously mad?"

Gary caught sight of me unzipping the dress in the mirror. His smile wavered, and he hurried over, catching my hand.

"Take your hands off me."

Instead of letting go, he stepped closer, whispering in that gentle, coaxing tone he used whenever he treated me like a child. "There are a dozen crew members waiting out there. Stop being so dramatic."

Mindy stood a few feet away, the lace train of her gown trailing across the floor. She remained silent, tilting her head slightly as she watched us. The exact angle, the precise tilt of her chin, was a carbon copy of my own habits.

I pried his fingers off my wrist, one by one.

The silk gown slid down my shoulders, revealing the white slip beneath.

Gary's face darkened. "Rachel!"

"Let her wear it," I said softly. "You did not have it tailored for my body anyway."

I folded the dress neatly and set it over the back of a chair.

Mindy finally spoke, her voice trembling with delicate anxiety. "Rachel, I am so sorry. I should not have brought up that stupid bet."

She lowered her gaze, her lashes fluttering as her fingers nervously twisted the lace sleeves of the dress. "Gary, did I say something wrong? Is she upset with me?"

Gary looked over at her, his expression softening instantly. "It is not your fault." He patted her shoulder gently, then turned back to me with a sigh. "Rachel, Mindy was just trying to help. She attends those events for you because..."

"Because I lack the class," I finished his sentence for him.

He paused for a fraction of a second. "That is not what I meant."

"That is exactly what you meant."

He drew in a sharp breath, pulling me into a quiet corner of the studio. His voice dropped, maintaining a patient, patronizing warmth. "Look at you, getting all worked up over nothing. It is just a game. Mindy and I have played this since we were kids, and you know that. When she went in your place to the company gala last time, you did not make a scene."

I did not make a scene then because the dress I had bought a week in advance was deemed inappropriate by him, replaced by a duplicate from Mindy's closet.

The time before that, at his father's milestone birthday, he told me three days prior that I did not need to attend. Mindy had already put on my signature makeup and filled my seat. Photos were shared in the family group chat, receiving endless blessings, but the woman in those pictures was not me.

From the first game to the ninth, from high school reunions to corporate dinners, Mindy slowly erased my presence from his social life. And every single time, Gary offered the exact same line with a bright smile: It is just a game.

"Rachel?" He waved a hand in front of my face.

I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat with over a hundred mutual friends.

Mindy's pinned announcement sat right at the top: Imposter Challenge Round Nine: The Wedding Portrait Edition. Target: 72 hours undetected.

Underneath it was a long stream of cheering emojis and hypes from everyone.

I typed a single line and sent it: Fair game. You two can take the photos. Hang them in the master bedroom or the living room. I do not care.

The group chat went dead silent for a few seconds before exploding with notifications.

Gary looked down at his screen, his eyes widening in shock. "Are you insane?"

"You did not ask if I was insane when you agreed to her bet."

I grabbed my jacket from the chair and walked toward the exit.

Gary took two steps toward me, but Mindy's voice whimpered behind him, thick with tears. "Gary, my head hurts... I think my blood sugar is dropping..."

His footsteps abruptly halted.

I did not turn back. I heard him say softly behind me, "Sit down, Mindy. Take it easy."

Pushing open the glass doors of the studio, I stepped into a chilly drizzle.

My phone vibrated. A text from Gary: Do not wander off. Wait for me. I will come find you as soon as I handle this.

I did not reply.

Opening a rideshare app, I typed in the address of our intended wedding home.

Rain streaked down the car window, blurring the city lights into smeared ribbons of gold. Leaning against the headrest, my mind drifted back to three years ago when he proposed in the rain. He had knelt on the wet pavement, his suit completely soaked, smiling with absolute sincerity.

He told me then: Rachel, you are the only woman I ever want to marry. My one and only.

In the rearview mirror, the studio lights faded into the dark.

When I arrived at the apartment, I unlocked the door with my thumbprint.

A stack of legal documents lay on the coffee table in the living room. On top sat a sticky note written in Gary's familiar handwriting:

Mindy, please sign Thursday's contract on Rachel's behalf. Make sure they do not alter the clause on page three. I put the original copy in the safe. You know the code.

Beneath the note was an equity transfer agreement.

An agreement involving assets under my name.

I turned to page three. The clause read: If Party B (Rachel) fails to attend the signing in person, Party A is granted full power of attorney.

The name listed for Party A was Mindy.

This was no game.

This was an erasure.

From my face, to my identity, to the last remaining assets registered under my name.

I placed the document back exactly as it was, leaving every page untouched.

Then I unlocked my phone and booked a one-way flight to Oceanside for three days later.

Three days.

That would be more than enough time.