CHAPTER 1: The Wedding Venue

The marble floor got blurry under my tears as I scrubbed. Each time I moved my hand, my scarred fingers hurt like fire. Two years ago, I would have been a guest at a wedding like this. Now I was just the cleaning lady.

"Bethany!" Ms. Matilda's angry voice echoed across the big room. "That marble better shine, or you're cleaning toilets next week." She smiled at me in a mean way. She was getting back at me for three years ago when I didn't give her a job at my fashion company.

I kept my mouth shut and kept scrubbing. This was the only job I could get now. I was hiding from the people who wanted money from my dead husband. I had to move to a new city. The Irony wasn’t lost on me. I used to make beautiful dresses for weddings. Now I cleaned the floors at them.

The wedding music got louder as guests filled the fancy ballroom. Pretty dresses swept past my bucket. The people wearing them talked about fashion week. I knew some of their faces from my old life. I quickly looked down. They couldn't see me like this. I looked terrible. I had scars all over. I was too skinny. I looked invisible.

I picked up my cleaning supplies with shaking hands. I wanted to run away before anyone saw me. The fallen fashion designer who now scrubbed their floors. My uniform hung on my thin body. It made me look even worse. I used to wear silk dresses. Now I wore this.

Then I heard it.

That laugh. It was deep and confident. I knew that laugh so well. It used to make my knees feel weak.

Brock! He was alive?

My bucket fell from my hands. I couldn't feel my fingers anymore.

I knew those hands before I saw his face. The way he fixed his fancy shirt buttons. The small scar on his thumb from our first anniversary. My dead husband stood twenty feet away. He was fixing his wedding tie.

The bucket crashed on the marble floor. Cleaning water spread everywhere like blood. Everyone turned to look at the noise. At me. But I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

"Daddy!" A little girl's voice broke through my shock.

Emma.

My baby girl ran toward Brock. She wore a tiny bridesmaid dress. Her dark curls bounced with each step. The same curls I used to braid every morning. The same laugh that used to fill our home.

I opened my arms without thinking. My body remembered even when my mind couldn't catch up. "Emma, baby..."

She stopped running. Her green eyes looked at me across the ballroom. They were my eyes. For one second, I saw something in her face. She almost remembered me.

Then she got scared.

Emma stepped back. She pressed herself against the bride's white dress. Against Tatiana. My former best friend wrapped her arms around my daughter like she was protecting her.

"Mommy," Emma whispered. She didn't look away from me. "Who is the scary lady?"

Mommy.

That word hurt like someone had hit me. Emma called Tatiana mommy. My daughter. My baby who used to crawl into bed with me when she was scared of thunder. She was afraid of me now.

People started whispering. Guests noticed something was wrong. I walked forward, dragging my hurt leg. I had to reach Emma. I had to make her remember me.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Tatiana said sweetly. She rubbed Emma's hair. "The lady is just confused."

"Bethany?" Brock's voice sounded shocked. "What the hell! How are you here?"

I stood frozen in the middle of their perfect wedding. Guests stared at the crazy woman who crashed their party. I saw myself in a big mirror on the wall. My cheeks were too thin. I had faded scars from when the mafia beat me up and tore my face. My clothes hung on me like I was just a coat hanger.

No wonder Emma didn't know who I was. I barely knew who I was.

"Security!" Brock's voice got loud and bossy. It was the same voice that used to whisper love songs in my ear. "That woman is crazy and dangerous. She's been following my family since she had her breakdown. Get her out before she hurts someone."

Following them. Breakdown. The lies came out of his mouth so easily. I almost believed them myself.

Security guards started walking toward me. Guests backed away. They pulled their children away from the crazy woman. Emma hid her face in Tatiana's dress. Her small shoulders were shaking.

"Emma," I whispered. But she didn't look up.

Strong hands grabbed my arms. They started dragging me to the exit. I looked at Brock one last time.

The last thing I heard before the doors closed was Emma's small voice. "Mommy, why did the scary lady know my name?"

The men threw me outside the hall. Ms. Matilda fired me right away. She looked happy about it. I didn't care. Nothing mattered except the impossible truth. Brock was alive. Emma was alive. And they had stolen my whole world while I lived like a ghost.

My legs felt so heavy. I waited for hours for the wedding to end.

Soon, Brock walked out of the hall. He had his big fake smile on his face. Big security men walked around him. There was no way I could get close to him. But I had to do something. I watched him help Tatiana and Emma get into a gleaming black car.

Then the dea came.

I ran at one of the guests. The old man turned to me with scrunched face,. "They forgot something very important. I need to give it back to them right now!" I said in a rough voice. I pointed at their car. It was getting far away. "How do I bring it to them?"

The old man looked surprised. "Well, you can bring it to them at Orchid Hotel this evening. At 8PM. They are opening their fashion brand today."

"Thank you. I will do that, sir."

I left the wedding and went back to my tiny apartment. I cried while I picked out the least offensive rag to wear. When it got close to 8PM, I put them on. Then I walked to the place the man told me about.

I walked to the entrance like I was confident. Like any other guest. Even though my clothes were bad. Thud. My head hit something hard. I looked up slowly. I saw the squeezed face of the security guard. "Your invitation?"

I smiled but it was fake. I scratched my hair. "I think I forgot it in the car." I turned around. My head was working hard to think of a way to get inside the building.

I walked around the building until I found a back door. I went in through the kitchen. The catering workers were busy. They thought I belonged there. Then I went up the stairs to the main room.

The bright pink and purple lights lined the runway. That's where fashion stars are made. I felt nostalgic. The main hall smelled like expensive perfume. Soft classical music played in the background. Models were already dancing on the runway.

Wait.

I blinked. I must be seeing things wrong.

That special neckline that went to one side. The pearls sewn by hand along the bottom. These were my designs!

How?

BROCK!

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the event host said. He stopped my thoughts. "The Love of a Mother collection. Designed and styled by Tatiana Black herself."

My collection. The same collection I made right before the accident happened. My heart felt like it fell into a frozen lake.

The crowd went quiet. Emma walked out from behind the curtains. She wore the sundress with the flower designs. She walked down the runway with confidence. Tatiana walked behind her in the same dress. Just a little bit different.

Emma walked the way I taught her. When she got to the edge of the runway, she folded her arms and threw her head to the side. Exactly the way I showed her. The crowd roared so loud my ear almost burst.

MY BABY.

I saw the biggest fashion investors talking around Brock. He was standing in front of the crowd.

When Tatiana and Emma changed outfits, the fashion people cheered even louder.

I reached up to remove whatever enterred my eyes. Then I realized how wet they were. I sniffled to stop myself from crying. Everything got blurry. Rage burned in my chest like acid. My scarred hands were shaking. I watched them make money from my stolen dreams.

"These are my designs!" I cried. The crowd stopped cheering right away.

The silence was heavy. Everyone turned to look at me.

"I am Bethany Nott! Brock and Tatiana stole my designs!" I said loudly. I limped forward so they could all see me.

I heard people whispering. Some said it was me. Most said it couldn't be me. "That can't be Bethany. She doesn't walk with a limp. She is not that thin either." "And those scars? No, it can't be her."

"Security!" Brock shouted. His nice mask slipped away. "Get that crazy woman out of here before she makes a scene!"

Two strong men grabbed me right away. One on each side. They pulled me toward the exit.

"Take her around the back," I heard Brock's voice behind me. It was cold and sharp. "Away from the cameras."

I knew that sound in his voice. It was only there when he was really angry. And when Brock got angry, he did stupid things. My heart beat hard against my ribs. We moved through shadows toward the back of the building.

"What are you doing?" I said in a rough voice. I tried to fight against their strong grip. We went past dark windows. The wedding music got quieter. Stone walls blocked out the sound.

Brock followed behind us. He fixed his fancy shirt buttons. He did it the same careful way he used to plan our anniversary dinners. "You'll find out soon enough, Bethany. And then you'll forget even faster."

We stopped at the marble railings. They looked over the garden. We were three floors up. Pretty lights twinkled in the darkness. They looked beautiful and far away. In that split second, I understood what was happening. I saw Brock nod to the guards.

The world tilted.

Brock's hands slammed into my back.