SCARLET'S POVMy hands trembled around the bouquet. White roses and lilies, chosen by someone else for someone else. The dress weighed on my shoulders like guilt, I was wearing lace, silk and lies. The cold marble pressed through my heels and into my bones. I stood at the altar using a name that was not mine.Vivian Lawson.The guests whispered behind me. Hundreds of faces I did not know, watching a bride they thought they recognized. The cathedral stretched endlessly above. My heart was beating so hard I thought everyone could hear it. Every breath felt stolen. The organ music swelled, filling every corner of the massive space. Incense hung in the air, thick and cloying.This was not my wedding. This was not my life. But I was here anyway, trapped in my stepsister's place, wearing her identity like a second skin.We looked alike. Everyone said so and unfortunately, they were correct. We had the same dark hair that fell in waves past our shoulders. Same green eyes, same pale s
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