Isla
THE NEXT DAY~D-DAY
The house feels like it’s breathing. In and out.
Voices echo down the hallway, doors opening and closing, the fast rhythm of preparations filling every corner of the estate. Makeup artists arrived an hour ago. Dress bags line the corridor like silent sentinels. The scent of perfume and hairspray floats beneath the heavier smell of espresso and nerves.
It’s Sienna’s wedding day.
I find her sitting on the edge of her bed while two women adjust her hair. Her hands rest neatly in her lap. Her spine is straight. Too straight.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
She turns and smiles at me. It’s not forced. But it’s not free either.
“I’m fine,” she says. “It’ll make things easier.”
“How?”
She shrugs. “Staying. Living with him. Knowing there’s a reason it has to last at lea
