“Now you’ll never marry my son!” my mother-in-law laughed, setting my wedding dress on fire. I wiped my tears, smiled coldly, and said, “Enjoy destroying that dress, because the wedding was never the real trap.” Her face went completely pale when I made one quick phone call…

a microscopic nod.

“Absolutely not,” I told the photographer, my voice ringing with finality. “Radical transparency is the only play here. The fire is the prologue to our story.”

As if the universe was eavesdropping, my phone buzzed with an alert. A prominent local news aggregator had ripped the livestream footage. The exact moment Margaret’s lighter continue reading …