The woman staring back was pale but not broken. Her eyes were clear. Her jaw was set. I touched the glass as if confirming I was real.
“You are not trapped,” I said aloud.
I did not cancel the wedding. Not yet. Rage without a plan would only leave me cornered. I needed control. I needed witnesses. I needed protection.
I pulled out my phone. My attorney, Jordan Blake, had insisted on a prenuptial agreement months earlier. I remembered how annoyed Dylan had been when I requested it. Jordan had said, “If love is real, protection will never be used.” I had signed the document but hoped never to need it.
I typed one message.
“Trigger the agreement. Emergency clause. Be at Silver Ridge Estate within thirty minutes.”
The reply came fast.
“Understood. I am on my way.”
I exhaled slowly. My reflection looked steadier now.
Guests began filling the hall. Music swelled. My father knocked gently on the door.
“Savannah sweetheart. It is time,” he said.
I opened the door. He smiled proudly, unaware of the storm inside me. I slipped my arm through his.
“You look radiant,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “No matter what happens next, I love you.”
He laughed softly. “Nothing bad happens today.”
He could not know how wrong he was.
