Chapter 2 - The Edge of the Terrace
By mid-afternoon, the courtyard at Alder House was blindingly bright. The stone terrace ran right along the edge of a pristine, turquoise pool that mirrored the cloudless sky. It was a stunning architectural choice, provided nobody lost their balance—or was pushed.
I kept to the shadowed perimeter near the boxwood hedges. Every time a guest approached, my body went on high alert.
"Tessa!"
Before I could turn completely, a distant cousin—someone I hadn't seen since a Thanksgiving three years ago—lunged forward and grabbed my right arm to pull me into a hug. A bolt of white-hot lightning shot from my collarbone down to my elbow. I ripped myself backward, stumbling hard against the stone planter.
"Whoa! Sorry!" she gasped. "Did I hurt you?"
"My shoulder," I breathed, clutching my arm to my chest while spots danced in my vision. "I'm recovering from a crash."
"Oh, honey, I had no idea!"
Lena was standing just ten feet away, deep in conversation with Sophia, her impeccably poised maid of honor. She had heard the commotion, but her expression didn't soften with sympathy. Instead, her eyes narrowed into that familiar, glittering look of amusement.
"You’ve told the entire wedding about that shoulder," Lena called out, her voice carrying across the quiet pocket of guests.
A few people chuckled, assuming it was sibling teasing.
I forced a tight, brittle smile to my face, stepping right back into my assigned character. "I’m trying to avoid surgery, Lena."
"Very dramatic," she tossed back, turning back to Sophia.
"Very doctor’s orders," I muttered under my breath.
A warm hand touched my left shoulder, making me flinch before I realized who it was. Caleb, Lena’s fiancé, was standing there holding two glasses of sparkling water. His eyes were dark, steady, and sharp. He handed me a glass and glanced over at my sister.
"Leave her alone," Caleb said, smiling, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of iron in his voice.
Lena didn't look back as she replied, "She knows I’m kidding."
"I know," I lied automatically. The words slipped out of my mouth before my brain could stop them. Nobody had forced me to defend her; I did it because keeping the peace was second nature, a reflex built on decades of smoothing over her sharpest barbs.
Caleb looked at me, a brief flicker of concern crossing his clean-shaven face. "Are you sure you're okay, Tessa? You look pale."
"I'm fine," I said, offering him a genuine smile this time. Caleb was good for her—steady where she was volatile, patient where she was impatient. I had always liked him. "Just pacing myself for the ceremony."
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The photographer's assistant suddenly appeared, shouting for Lena to join the family lineup by the garden steps. Lena set her glass down with a sharp clatter and hurried off, her white dress rustling like dry leaves.
I let out a long, shuddering breath. Twenty minutes until the ceremony. If I could just survive the walk down the aisle, the hard part would be over.
