Why every photo of her mother had been removed from the house.
Why Jennifer always changed the subject when Madison asked about the day she was born.
They’d built a family on her mother’s grave.
They’d erased Samantha and replaced her with a woman who’d laughed while she died.
And they’d lied to Madison for sixteen years about all of it.
Three days later at dinner, Jennifer mentioned the vow renewal.
“It’ll be our sixteenth anniversary in June,” she said, touching Andrew’s hand. “I was thinking we could renew our vows. Big celebration. All our friends. Madison, you could be a bridesmaid. What do you think?”
Andrew smiled. “I think that’s a beautiful idea.”
Madison looked at them across the table—her father who’d let her mother die alone, her stepmother who’d been pregnant with his child while his wife bled out—and she smiled back.
“I think it’s perfect,” Madison said. “And I’d love to give a speech at the reception about family and love and the truth.”
Jennifer beamed. “That would be so special, sweetheart.”
Andrew nodded. “Your mother would be so proud.”
Madison’s smile didn’t waver.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I think she would.”
June 22nd, 2024.
The Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills.
Andrew had spared no expense.
Two hundred guests. White roses everywhere. A string quartet playing Pachelbel’s Canon.
The ceremony was at sunset on the rooftop terrace, with the city sprawling golden beneath them.
Jennifer looked beautiful in an ivory gown, not white.
She’d said white felt inappropriate for a vow renewal.
But Madison knew the real reason.
White was for first weddings.
White was for brides who hadn’t stolen someone else’s husband.
Andrew stood at the altar in a custom Tom Ford tuxedo, looking happier than Madison had ever seen him.
His parents sat in the front row crying.
