Meghan
The sound of the front door closing behind the last of the guests echoes through the house like a final breath of air escaping a lung. The clatter of voices, the rustle of dresses and suits, the polite laughter—all of it is gone. Only the hum of silence remains. It presses down on me, thick and heavy, like I’m drowning in it. I wish I could escape, but there’s nowhere to go. Not now.
I stand in the entryway, the polished floors reflecting my every move as I watch the last of the guests leave. The evening was supposed to be a celebration, a grand affair to mark the union my father has orchestrated. But all I feel is a knot tightening in my chest, a sickness curling in my stomach that no amount of forced smiles can fix.
“Meghan,” my father’s voice cuts through the silence.
I freez
