There were so many little doorways now that I looked back.
Brenda borrowing Elias’s jacket at a barbecue because she was cold.
Cynthia making comments about how modern marriages worked better when daughters-in-law didn’t cling too tightly.
Elias suddenly becoming distant whenever I asked about wedding expenses.
Brenda crying in our kitchen two months ago because she had “made a mistake with someone unavailable,” while Elias stood at the sink, gripping a glass so hard I thought it might break.
I had comforted her.
I had made tea.
I had not once imagined the unavailable man was my fiancé.
My phone buzzed again. This time, the message was from Cynthia.
Ella, dear, we are all very concerned. A bride disappearing on her wedding night is not normal. Please call Elias before people start asking questions.
Rebecca read it and gave a humorless smile. “There it is.”
“What?”
“The foundation. Not normal. People asking questions. She’s planting the idea early.”
