She called throwing me into a pool with an injured shoulder “just a joke”—until her fiancé heard her admit that she knew exactly what would happen when I fell.

The courtyard grew so quiet you could hear the distant hum of traffic on the highway half a mile away. Dad was kneeling beside me with a bag of crushed ice, trying to gently wedge it under my useless right arm, but I barely felt the cold. All my attention was locked on the terrace steps.

Caleb closed the distance between himself and my sister. The white roses lining the aisle suddenly looked less like wedding decor and more like a barricade.

"You said you knew she couldn’t catch herself on that side," Caleb said, his voice shaking with a quiet, controlled fury.

Lena shook her head, her hands flying up in a defensive gesture. "Caleb, babe, you're misunderstanding. I was just—I was talking about the joke. You know how Tessa is, she always makes a big deal out of—"

"You said that was the point," Caleb interrupted. He didn't raise his voice, but the weight behind every syllable made Lena flinch.

I looked up from the ground, shivering uncontrollably beneath Mom's towel. "What does that mean, Lena?"

"It doesn't mean anything!" Lena snapped, her face flushing bright red now as dozens of eyes stared at her. "I pushed my sister into a pool! People pull pranks at weddings all the time! I didn't push her off a roof!"

"You knew I couldn't swim with that arm?" I choked out, the reality finally beginning to crystallize in my chest. "You knew I couldn't brace myself?"

Lena spun around to face me, her eyes flashing with sudden, vicious anger. "I knew you were injured, Tessa! That is not the same thing as trying to hurt you! Why are you trying to ruin my day?"

Ruining her day.

There it was. The golden rule of the Vale family universe: no matter how badly Lena behaves, my reaction to the pain she causes is always the true crime.

Caleb rubbed both hands over his face, dragging his palms down his stubbled jaw. He looked exhausted, older by ten years than he had felt that morning. Behind him, the immaculate white folding chairs sat empty, waiting for a ceremony that was rapidly disintegrating.

Mom stepped between them, her hands raised like a peacekeeper in a warzone. "Caleb, please. Everyone is upset, adrenaline is high. This is not the time to start interrogating her like a criminal. The guests are watching."

Caleb lowered his hands and looked straight past my mother into her eyes.

"I’m not interrogating a criminal, Helen," Caleb said quietly, using my mother's first name for the first time in the three years I had known him. "I'm asking my fiancée a direct question about who she actually is."

"And I answered it!" Lena shrieked, her voice finally cracking, losing its polished veneer. "I pushed her! Are you happy? Do you want to call the cops on your own bride over a splash in the water?"

Caleb looked at her for a long, agonizing moment. The silence stretched until it felt physically painful.

The venue coordinator appeared at the edge of the terrace, holding a clipboard and looking terrified. "Um... Mr. Harrison? We need a final word on whether the seating music should start. We're fifteen minutes past schedule."

Caleb didn't break eye contact with Lena.