Isabel's POV
"Are you sure about this, Is?" Amara's voice cut through the soft hum of the hairdryer, and I had to catch myself to not snap at her.
I sat at the vanity staring at my reflection. My makeup was half-done—foundation, a swipe of blush—but the dark circles under my eyes refused to stay hidden. I hadn't slept all night. How could I?
"Amara," I said quietly, not looking at her. "We've had this conversation already. It's my wedding day. I can't just…"
I trailed off, my voice catching.
"Can't just what?" she shot back, pulling up the chair beside me. "Can't just admit you're about to marry a guy who's hiding God knows what? Can't just cancel before you end up in a disaster?"
I clenched my fists in my lap. "Stop."
"No, I won't stop," she said, her voice sharper now. "This isn't
