“Come on,” Courtney says. “Let’s go see what we can do to help.”
Before they leave, Mrs. Grady’s voice dips, more vulnerable. “I’m just glad you’re here. I always thought…”
“I know,” Courtney says quietly. “But I really am happy for him. For them. You should be too. Luna’s good for him, I can tell. And she’s really nice.”
A long sigh. “Maybe,” Mrs. Grady admits grudgingly.
“You and I will always be friends," Courtney says. “But you have got to make room for your new daughter-in-law.”
The door opens. Closes.
I’m alone again.
I stare at the stall door, heart pounding harder than it should. My body feels too hot and too cold at the same time.
Aurum Micro-PIPE. Midtown.Indictments.So not just regulatory scrutiny anymore.
I don’t know what it all means. A part of me wants to pull out my phone and look up the latest articles, but…
I don’t.
There’ll be plenty of time for that later.
I force myself to stand, unlock the stall, and step out into what now feels like too-bright of a light. My reflection looks exactly as I’d expect with the way I feel—tired, a little blotchy, my new hairstyle looking frizzy and windblown.
I set my bag on the counter, unzip it, and am immediately greeted by the smell of the soiled towel.
“Fantastic,” I mutter, pushing it away.
I dampen a wad of paper towel with cool water and press it to my cheeks, under my eyes, along my hairline, the back of my neck. Another pass and I almost feel human.
My breathing evens out.
It’s not a shower, but it’s as close as I’m going to get.
I go back to the bag and fish out my deodorant, brush, and travel-sized perfume. I swipe the miniature stick under my arms, spritz my neck and wrists, then run the brush through my hair with quick, practiced strokes until it looks less like I’m experiencing a meltdown and more like intentional waves.
When I finally look down, I notice it—my hands are shaking.
I clench them once. Twice. Grip the edge of the counter until my fingers steady.
“This is Luna’s wedding,” I whisper to my reflection.
Even though they’re already married.
I square my shoulders, shove everything back into the bag (gross bits tossed in the trash), and walk out.
HERE’S TO MY BIG SISTER
ASHLEY
The bridal prep room is bright and buzzing—part salon, part dressing room, with a dash of chaos. Tay, Luna, Babs, a few of the bus ladies, and Mom are clustered around a big mirror, laughing about something to do with strapless gowns and double-sided tape.
For a second, it’s like stepping into a different universe, one where everything is normal.
“Hey!” Luna spots me in the doorway and lights up. Not just happy—relieved. “You’re here! You’re finally here!”
“Where else would I be on your wedding day?”
