All Chapters of I Remember the Wedding That Killed Me: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"It's not one of us," Damian says, low and fast in the dark, already crouched by the door with something metallic in his grip that I decide not to ask too many questions about right now. "Celeste. Your phone. When's the last time you had it out of your sight.""I don't—" Celeste's voice shakes, but I hear her fumbling in the dark, hear the small click of her phone case coming open. "I don't know, they took it from me for maybe ten minutes when they searched the house—""There." Something rattles free, small and metallic, and a thin red pinpoint of light glows faint against her palm even in the total dark. "A tracker. They didn't need to follow us, Celeste. They've known exactly where you were since the moment they searched your phone six days ago."Relief and horror wash through me at almost the same instant — relief that it isn't Reyna, isn't Damian, isn't some deeper rot in the small circle of people I've allowed myself to trust, and horror that the answer is somehow worse, because

"Her purse," I say, already crouching by the open car door, scanning the interior fast before my nerve gives out. "If she had notes on us, on the story, anything—""Ivy, we don't have time—""Thirty seconds." I'm already reaching across the passenger seat, past a spilled coffee and a scattered notepad, my fingers closing around a small flash drive tucked into the seam of the seat cushion like she'd hidden it there on instinct, the reflex of someone who's had things taken from her before and learned to keep a backup somewhere a hand wouldn't immediately find it.Headlights sweep across the lot from the street, slow, and Damian's hand closes hard around my arm."Now, Ivy. That's a patrol car."We're back in the car and pulling out of a side exit before the patrol car finishes its turn into the lot, and I sit gripping the flash drive so hard the plastic edge bites into my palm, watching the flashing lights shrink in the side mirror."They'll process this as a missing person," Damian says

Damian's hand doesn't leave his weapon, but he doesn't raise it either, watching Julian with the flat, careful wariness of a man deciding whether tonight's alliances are about to shift again."How," I say, already crossing the room to Mara, peeling the tape gently from her mouth while Julian works at the zip tie binding her wrists. "How did you even find her.""I've known where my father keeps things he doesn't want found since I was nineteen years old." Julian's voice is rougher than I've ever heard it, stripped of every ounce of the easy charm he's worn at every dinner table I've watched him sit at for the last year. "There's a property outside the city. Officially decommissioned. I got her out through a service entrance twenty minutes ago, and I have maybe an hour before someone notices the door was never actually locked."Mara draws a shaking breath the second her hands are free, rubbing at raw wrists, eyes darting between the three of us with the particular wariness of someone wh

We make it to the hospital in eleven minutes, Damian driving faster than I've seen him drive all night, and I spend every one of those minutes with my phone pressed useless against my ear, redialing a number that goes straight to voicemail every single time.Mara stays behind at the print shop with strict instructions not to leave, and Julian comes with us, silent, pale, his own phone switched off entirely now that he understands every call on it might be another weapon his father can use.My mother's waiting in the emergency room lobby when we arrive, standing alone in yesterday's clothes, mascara long since given up, and the second she sees me her face crumples in a way I've genuinely never seen it do in my entire life."He's in surgery," she says, before I even reach her, before I can ask. "They said something about a blockage, they're saying it's serious but not — not the worst thing, they're saying there's a good chance, Ivy, they're saying—"I pull her into a hug before she can

"Trace it," I say, already pulling up the message thread on my phone, hands steadier now than they have any right to be. "You said you saw the number flash on my screen. Can hospital security trace where that call originated from inside the building.""Maybe." Reyna's already moving, badge out, heading toward the security office at a pace just short of a run. "If whoever authorized the swap used an internal extension to route through, there'll be a log. If they used a personal cell, it's harder, but not impossible, not if they're still inside the building.""Still inside," Damian repeats, low, already scanning the corridor behind us with new intensity. "You think they're watching right now.""I think someone who's willing to walk into a hospital and personally arrange for a man to die on an operating table isn't the kind of person who delegates the follow-up," Reyna says grimly. "They'll want to know it worked."The security office is cramped, three monitors showing grainy feeds of ha