Because he knew his sister.
And Evelyn wasn’t smiling.
“Thank you,” she began.
Her voice was calm.
Almost strangely calm.
“I promise I won’t keep everyone long.”
A few people laughed politely.
Evelyn looked at Olivia.
Then Nate.
“Weddings are supposed to be about promises.”
The room quieted.
“Promises about loyalty. Honesty. Trust. About building a life with another person while believing that the person standing beside you is exactly who they say they are.”
Nate’s jaw tightened.
Margaret whispered something under her breath.
Evelyn continued.
“I’ve spent the last several weeks thinking about promises.”
Nate put down his champagne glass.
“And I’ve spent even more time thinking about secrets.”
Now nobody was laughing.
Evelyn turned toward the enormous projection screen behind the head table.
It had been displaying a monogram all evening.
N & O
The letters vanished.
The screen went black.
Then a photograph appeared.
Several guests leaned forward.
It was an old wedding photograph.
A younger woman stood outside a courthouse wearing a simple white dress.
Beside her stood two men in dark suits.
One was smiling.
The other wasn’t.
The picture looked ordinary.
Until Olivia stopped breathing.
Evelyn saw it happen.
Olivia’s fingers tightened around her champagne flute.
Nate turned toward his bride.
“Liv?”
She didn’t answer.
Evelyn raised the microphone.
“This photograph was taken nine years ago in Connecticut.”
Olivia stared at her.
“Evelyn.”
It was barely audible.
Evelyn continued.
“The woman in the middle is Olivia.”
Gasps moved through the ballroom.
The photograph was old enough that Olivia looked different.
Darker hair.
Rounder face.
But once Evelyn said it, the resemblance became unmistakable.
Nate stood.
“What is this?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“You should sit down.”
“No.”
“Then stand.”
Nate stared at the photograph.
“Who are those men?”
Olivia suddenly rose.
“This is ridiculous.”
Evelyn didn’t even look at her.
“The man on Olivia’s right is named Simon Vale.”
The screen changed.
A scanned record appeared.
A marriage certificate.
Simon Vale.
Olivia Bennett.
Date: nine years earlier.
The ballroom erupted in whispers.
Nate turned toward Olivia.
“You were married?”
Olivia’s face had lost all color.
“Nate, listen—”
“You told me you’ve never been married.”
“It wasn’t—”
“You said you’ve never been married.”
Olivia reached for him.
He stepped backward.
Evelyn spoke again.
“The marriage itself isn’t the problem.”
That silenced everyone.
Nate looked at his sister.
“What do you mean?”
Evelyn changed the slide.
A second document appeared.
A death certificate.
Simon Vale.
Deceased seven years earlier.
Cause of death was not visible from the tables.
But the date was.
Nate stared at it.
Then he looked at Olivia.
“You were widowed?”
Olivia’s breathing had become shallow.
“Yes.”
The word barely escaped her mouth.
