10
1508 Words
The car ride to my parents’ house felt longer than the entire wedding day. Dawn washed the sky in pale gold, soft light sweeping over the empty streets as we approached the gated neighborhood where I had grown up. Every turn twisted a new knot in my stomach, each street sign a reminder that everything in my life had changed overnight.
Chase sat beside me in silence, arms folded, eyes fixed on the road ahead with an expression that would have terrified anyone who did not know him. Even I was not sure what lived behind that cold stare right now. Anger. Betrayal. Calculation. Maybe all of them at once.
I stared at my hands because looking at him for too long made my heart thump too loudly in my ears. As the car rolled toward the tall iron gates, I pressed my lips together and tried to imagine how this conversation would go. What my parents would say. How they would face the storm they had created.
The gates opened after the guards recognized Chase’s vehicle, and the car turned sharply onto the polished driveway. The house looked the same as it always had. Elegant. Proud. Timeless. But now I saw cracks everywhere, invisible lines that reminded me of everything that was broken between us.
When the car stopped, my father was already waiting by the entrance. He looked older than he had yesterday. Like the lie had aged him overnight.
My mother stood behind him, hands clasped, eyes wide with fear.
Chase got out first. His presence alone changed the air. My father straightened his spine, my mother stepped forward nervously, and the security guards pretended they were not watching the exchange.
I stepped out after Chase, my legs shaking. My father approached us with a forced composure, but his voice trembled slightly.
“Alpha Chase,” he said quietly. “Thank you for coming.”
Chase did not offer a polite smile. He did not offer warmth. He simply nodded, jaw tight. “We need to speak. Inside.”
There was no room for hesitation. My father led us into the house. My mother closed the doors behind us and the silence that followed settled like stone. No one else was home. My younger nieces had been sent to stay with my sister-in-law. My brother was away at a business conference. The house felt empty in a way that was unsettling.
We gathered in the living room. The same room where Cassandra once paraded wedding dresses in front of everyone. The same room where plans were discussed loudly and excitedly. Now the walls seemed heavy with regret.
Chase did not sit. He stood in the center of the room, hands behind his back, chest rising slowly with controlled breaths. My parents remained standing too, looking small under the weight of his presence. I stood beside Chase, unsure what to do with my hands.
Finally, Chase spoke.
“Tell me everything.”
His voice was quiet, but the silence that followed demanded truth.
My father stepped forward, shoulders sagging slightly. “Cassandra left a note. We do not know when she slipped out. We searched the property, we called her phone, we checked her accounts. There was nothing. She planned this. We were desperate. The cameras were ready. The council was present. You were waiting.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “So you decided to hide it.”
My mother’s voice broke into the moment. “We did not want to humiliate you. Cassandra would never return if she knew she caused a scandal. We believed she would come back during the reception. We thought Isla could stand in just long enough…”
She trailed off, her voice cracking.
Chase studied them for a long, heavy moment. Every second felt like a punishment. Finally he asked, “Where is she now?”
My father shook his head helplessly. “We do not know. But we will find her. We promise you that.”
“When,” Chase asked. “How long until you bring your daughter back.”
My mother swallowed hard. “Two weeks. We ask only for two weeks. Give us that time. No one outside this room knows what happened. We will find Cassandra before the honeymoon ends. And if we do, the world will never know she was missing.”
I felt a cold chill move through me.
Two weeks of pretending.
Two weeks of living a lie.
Two weeks of being someone I was not.
Chase did not answer immediately. His jaw worked tight, eyes fixed on my parents with a look that could cut through walls. Then, slowly, he nodded once.
“Two weeks,” he repeated.
My mother exhaled, relief flooding her features.
“But understand something,” Chase continued, his voice dropping lower. “If I find out I was lied to again, if I uncover any attempt to sabotage my name or my position in the pack, I will not protect this family from the consequences.”
My father bowed his head. “We understand.”
Silence swallowed the room again. My heartbeat pounded so loud it echoed in my ears. The air felt too thin. The sense of finality in his voice settled heavily on my shoulders.
Two weeks.
That was all I had before everything shattered.
Chase turned to me then. His eyes softened just slightly when they met mine, a small sign that he did not blame me for the actions of others. It eased something in my chest.
“We are leaving,” he said. “Now.”
My mother reached for me, pulling me into a tight hug that smelled like her perfume and her fear. “Be careful,” she whispered against my hair. “Keep your head down. Behave like Cassandra when others are looking. Do not draw attention. We will find her, Isla. I promise you.”
My father nodded at me too. His expression was stern but worried. “Trust Chase. Stay quiet. Stay safe.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, stepping back.
Chase was already moving. He did not wait for drawn out farewells. He did not want any chance for neighbors to see us lingering. He led the way outside and motioned for me to follow.
The sun now broke fully over the horizon, lighting the driveway and reflecting off the car windows. The world outside the gate was waking. Houses humming with life. People beginning their routines.
And us, running from the truth.
When we reached the car, Chase opened the backdoor and paused as I moved to get in.
“You need to dress like her,” he said quietly.
My eyes widened, but I nodded. My mother must have known too, because she had already packed a bag of Cassandra’s clothes. Beautiful designer pieces that I had never worn in my life.
In the car, I changed into one of Cassandra’s outfits. A soft beige coat with a belt tied at the waist, a white turtle neck, tight jeans that hugged my legs perfectly, and sunglasses that covered half my face. Still, Chase studied me for a moment, thinking.
“You need more,” he murmured.
He reached into the front compartment and pulled out a black face mask.
My stomach flipped.
“Put this on.”
I did. The fabric covered my nose and mouth, hiding everything except my eyes. With the sunglasses, I looked like Cassandra’s exact silhouette in public.
I barely recognized myself in the reflection on the window. I felt like a ghost of her. A shadow wearing the shell she left behind.
Chase looked satisfied. “That will keep rumors from spreading. Especially with paparazzi.”
The word paparazzi made my stomach clench.
There would be cameras.
Reporters.
People calling Cassandra’s name.
People watching our every move.
I turned my face toward the window and inhaled slowly. The world outside blurred as the car began moving again.
We headed straight to the airport.
The drive was quiet. Tense. Meaningful in a way that made my thoughts feel too loud. Chase looked out the window, jaw tight, as if planning everything in his head. How to protect the pack. How to contain the crisis. How to navigate a marriage that was never meant to be real.
When the car slowed down, my pulse jumped.
The airport entrance came into view. People with cameras crowded near the drop off gate, flashes popping like stars bursting all at once. Microphones raised high. Security trying to control the crowd.
They were waiting for us.
Waiting for Cassandra and Chase.
The perfect couple.
The destined pair.
My breath hitched behind the mask.
The driver stopped by the private entrance, but the paparazzi surged forward anyway, shouting questions, shouting Cassandra’s name, shouting Chase’s name.
Flashes blinded the window.
Screens reflected our faces.
Voices mixed into a hurricane of noise.
And all I could think was one truth.
If any one of them looked closely enough
… they would see a stranger wearing my sister’s life.
- Writer
