I Arrived At My Sister’s Wedding And She Tried To Hide Me

hum from the microphones near the altar.

Emily gave a soft laugh. Fake. Thin as paper.

“Margaret,” she said, still smiling with her teeth, “I think maybe this isn’t the time.”

Margaret didn’t sit down.

“No,” she said. “I think this is exactly the time.”

Her voice wasn’t loud. It just carried. Old Charleston money carries. So does disgust.

Beside her, her continue reading …