Chapter 1 - THE WEDDING DATE
I went to my parents’ mansion carrying a bottle of champagne and the date I thought would begin the happiest year of my life.
October 18.
Six months away.
Wyatt and I had finally chosen the church.
I had already imagined telling my mother first, watching her pretend not to cry, then listening to Dad complain about the guest list while secretly calling everyone he knew.
Instead, I found my fiancé kissing my younger sister beside the white stone fountain.
Melanie saw me first.
She did not jump away.
That was the part I would remember later.
No panic.
No shame.
She simply stepped out of Wyatt’s arms and smoothed the front of her blue dress.
Wyatt looked like someone had shot him.
“Sadie.”
I set the champagne bottle on the patio table.
“How long?”
He took one step toward me.
“It isn’t what you think.”
Melanie laughed.
“It is exactly what she thinks.”
I looked at her.
“How long?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Three months.”
My stomach turned.
Wyatt and I had been engaged for eleven.
“You slept with my fiancé for three months?”
Melanie folded her arms.
“Maybe accept that he wants me.”
Then she slapped me.
Hard.
My head snapped sideways.
For one second I simply stared at her.
Then my father came running from the side garden.
Not toward Melanie.
Toward me.
“What did you do?”
I almost laughed.
“What did I do?”
My mother appeared behind him.
Diane Marston looked at Wyatt, then Melanie, then me.
She understood immediately.
And somehow her first words were:
“Do not make a scene.”
I stared.
“Your daughter is sleeping with my fiancé.”
“She made a mistake.”
“Three months is not a mistake.”
Wyatt whispered:
“Sadie, please.”
I turned on him.
“Do not say my name.”
Dad stepped between us.
“You will keep this inside the family.”
“No.”
His face changed.
That single word frightened him.
Not because I had challenged him.
Because I had refused something he desperately needed.
“You are emotional.”
“I am ending the engagement.”
“No.”
The word came too fast.
I stared at him.
“What?”
Dad lowered his voice.
“You will not do anything tonight.”
“I will do whatever I want.”
“Sadie.”
“The wedding is over.”
My mother grabbed my wrist.
“Think about Melanie.”
I pulled away.
“Why?”
“She is your sister.”
“She slept with Wyatt.”
“And ruining her life will fix yours?”
I looked between them.
Something was wrong.
This was bigger than favoritism.
They were not begging me to forgive Melanie.
They were trying to stop me from canceling the wedding.
“Why do you care whether I marry him?”
Nobody answered.
Then Dad saw the electrician at the front gate.
Caleb Morris.
He had come to replace outdoor lighting.
His work van was parked beside the drive.
Dad looked toward him.
Then back at me.
His voice dropped.
“You are going inside.”
“No.”
He reached for my arm.
I stepped back.
“Touch me and I call the police.”
My mother laughed.
“You always were dramatic.”
I pulled out my phone.
That was when Dad grabbed the brick.
It had been sitting beside a half repaired flower bed.
One second in his hand.
Then he swung.
Pain exploded through the side of my head.
I hit the grass.
My vision disappeared on the left.
Someone screamed.
Melanie.
Maybe me.
My mother stood over me.
Then laughed.
“Let’s see if Wyatt still wants you now.”
Wyatt rushed forward.
“Sadie. Look at me.”
He grabbed my shoulders.
I shoved weakly.
“Don’t touch me.”
Caleb was already filming.
Dad pointed at him.
“You saw nothing.”
Caleb raised his phone higher.
“I saw enough.”
Two neighbors appeared at the road.
Then another.
A delivery driver stopped.
A woman walking her dog froze beside the gate.
Dad suddenly realized the lawn was no longer private.
Six people were looking at me bleeding beneath him.
Sirens began in the distance.
Dad dropped the brick.
My mother whispered:
“Richard, what have you done?”
He stared at her.
Then said something I did not understand.
“She can’t cancel before Friday.”
Caleb’s phone recorded every word.
Paramedics lifted me onto a stretcher.
As they carried me toward the ambulance, I looked back at the mansion.
An elderly man stood behind the living room curtain.
Gray hair.
Brown jacket.
One hand pressed against the glass.
He looked terrified.
Not surprised.
Terrified.
When our eyes met, he lifted one finger to his lips.
Then disappeared.
At the hospital, Dr. Evelyn Hart documented everything.
Fracture along my temple.
Severe concussion.
Eight stitches.
Detective Aaron Beckett arrived before I went for additional scans.
“Six independent witnesses support your account.”
“My father?”
“Being questioned.”
“My mother?”
“Also.”
“Melanie?”
“Yes.”
“Wyatt?”
“He claims he tried to help you.”
I laughed and immediately regretted it because pain tore through my skull.
Then a hospital volunteer entered.
“Sadie Marston?”
“Yes.”
“An elderly gentleman asked me to give you this.”
She handed me a sealed envelope.
Inside was a business card.
Samuel Grayson.
Estate Attorney.
On the back, six handwritten words.
ASK ABOUT YOUR GRANDFATHER’S FINAL WILL.
My grandfather Henry Marston had been dead for four years.
His will had been settled.
May you like
At least that was what my parents had always told me.
Continue to the next part: Sadie learns the will her family showed her after her grandfather’s death was not the final version.
