I Waited Until Rehearsal Dinner

ran a hand over his mouth. “Jesus, Em.”

Dad turned to me, not her.

That part didn’t surprise me either.

“Did you record her?”

“Yes.”

“You set this up.”

“No. She set it up when she stole from me. I just organized it.”

Dad’s nostrils flared. He has that old-school kind of anger where he thinks volume can change facts. “You should’ve come to family first.”

“I continue reading …