From my hotel balcony, I saw my sister draw my fiancé into the darkness and kiss him. “You don’t have to love me,” she murmured. “Just choose me once.” I pressed record, already certain this wedding would end to applause.

The next morning at exactly nine, Lily showed up at my suite with two lattes and that familiar, dazzling smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently. “You disappeared last night.”

“I was wiped out,” I said. “Everything just feels… like too much.”

She pulled me into a tight hug. I almost laughed. Not from joy, but from something sharp and bitter. The same arms that had wrapped around my fiancé hours earlier were now brushing my hair from my face.