They Framed Me, I Ruined Their Wedding

The day I got out of prison, my brother Owen wanted me to thank the sister who'd sent me there. On a livestream, in front of all her followers. "Mia didn't have to come pick you up. Don't embarrass her." Rain trickled down my neck and soaked through my collar. Mia had Owen's coat around her shoulders and her phone held up. My name kept flashing across the screen, always with the same word next to it: arsonist. Our parents had adopted her. After they died, Owen never let me forget that she needed this family more than I did. "It's been 3 long years, but we finally get to bring my sister home." Mia slipped an arm around me. "Let's leave the past in the past, okay?" The plastic bag crinkled in my hand. It held my old clothes and the calendar I'd kept for 3 years, every visiting day marked with a circle. Owen had promised to find out who'd kidn*pped me. Colin had promised to wait for me. I'd pictured that door opening so many times. The two of them waiting on the other side, holding proof of my innocence. I waited until my sentence ended. They never came. Before my release, my cellmate asked what I wanted to do first. "Sit down and have a meal with my family," I'd told her. "No glass between us. No one telling us our time's up." I'd already lost 3 years. I didn't want to spend my first day home fighting, but Mia still had her camera in my face. She'd called me 3 years earlier, sobbing. Someone was holding her at the old boathouse. She needed me to come pick her up. I rushed over. I barely got her name out before someone clapped a hand over my mouth. They tied me to a chair, smashed my phone, and recorded me crying and begging for help. Then the boathouse caught fire. I managed to work free of the ropes and climb through a broken window, shredding my arms on the glass. Mia told the police she'd never made that call. She said I was jealous of her and Colin. I'd threatened to burn the place down. There was a gas can planted in my car. Her testimony helped put me away for 3 years. When I tried to explain, Owen said Mia was terrified. He'd get to the bottom of it once she'd calmed down. So I waited. Now here she was, clinging to my arm and telling her followers how my family would help me turn my life around. "Turn it off, Mia. I don't want to be filmed." Her arm tightened around me. "Everyone's just worried about you." The comments were asking for photos of me from the rescue. My chest tightened. I turned to a staff member by the gate. "Please. I've told her to stop filming me. She won't listen." They stepped in front of the lens, cutting off the livestream. Owen scowled. "Did you have to humiliate her like that?" "I didn't want all those people staring at me. That's why I asked her to stop." I searched his face. "Why is that my fault?" He didn't answer. He just tilted the umbrella over Mia. When Mom was alive, he'd come to pick me up in the rain and pull his coat right over my head. Perhaps he hadn't noticed I was soaked. I edged closer, and he tilted the umbrella farther toward Mia. She said she was cold. He hurried her to the car, shielding her head as she climbed in. Behind them, the wet bag slipped out of my hand. Neither of them noticed. I bent to pick it up, still making excuses for him. We hadn't seen each other in so long. Maybe he didn't know what to say. A few dinners together, a little time, and we'd find our way back. I slid into the back seat. "Are we eating at home tonight? I could make Mom's soup." Owen checked his phone. "We've got too much going on. Mia and Colin's wedding is next week." My hands went still around the bag. Colin. My fiancé. Mia turned and draped a hand over the seat back. Her diamond ring scraped softly against the leather. The same ring Colin had slipped onto my finger. "You'll give us your blessing, won't you?" I looked down at the last page of my calendar. I'd made a list for when I got out. Have dinner together. Take a family photo. Ask Owen about the case. Clear things up with Colin. I covered it with my hand before the tears could hit the page.