"This is a major event for both our families. Making a scene only hurts you. People will just see a shrew."
"Charlotte. However jealous you are of your sister, have some dignity."
Connor's voice carried a faint threat.
His family stood behind him, frowning at me. Their disapproval was obvious.
All he wanted was to protect Sophia. He wanted everyone in this room to believe I was a jealous, unhinged woman.
I opened my mouth. Sophia's wounded eyes swept across the crowd, soft and pitiful.
The next second, her knees gave out. She dropped to the floor in front of me.
"Charlotte, it's all my fault. Hit me. Scream at me. Do whatever you want. Just don't say you don't want me anymore."
She was sobbing so hard her whole body shook.
Her hand was clamped tight around the hem of my dress. I couldn't step back. I couldn't pull away.
Connor tried to lift her up. She just kept shaking her head.
My mother walked toward Sophia, disbelief on her face.
"Sophia. Did you really do this to Charlotte?"
"I wasn't trying to take anything from her, Aunt Eleanor. You know I wouldn't dare. But things have gone this far now. And no one is more torn up about it than I am."
Sophia's eyes were red and swollen. Tears still streaked her face. She looked like a frightened doe.
My mother couldn't take it. She grabbed Sophia's shoulders.
"Why, Sophia?"
"Haven't we been good to you?"
Sophia's mother was my mother's sister. She'd married badly, lived miserably, and died young.
Sophia came to live with us when she was eight. From that day on, she had everything I had.
When she was thirteen, she got sick. My mother donated her own bone marrow.
Watching my mother's face, I couldn't hold it in.
"You weren't trying to take anything? Name one thing you haven't taken from me over the years."
Her private school tuition. Her allowance. Her summer in Paris. The rent on her Cambridge apartment.
"Enough!"
Connor half-pulled Sophia behind him, glaring at us both.
"How can you do this to her in front of all these people."
He'd dropped any pretense of respect. He looked my mother in the eye, cold.
"Mrs. Ashford. I understand you favor your own daughter. But don't take it this far."
"If I hadn't felt sorry for her, none of this would have—"
My mother stood there, trembling, her finger swinging back and forth between them.
"You... you two." She couldn't finish.
She swayed and crumpled to the floor.
"Mom? Mom. Someone call an ambulance."
I dropped to my knees beside her. My hands shook as I grabbed her wrist.
The crowd erupted into noise. Someone was calling 911.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
Her mouth was shaping the words I'm sorry.
Tears blurred my vision.
I'd been so wrong about everyone. How could she be the one apologizing.
I wiped my eyes and looked toward the door.
Please. Please hurry.
But there was no stretcher. There was Connor, holding Sophia in his arms, his face soft with concern as he whispered to her. "It's okay. None of this is your fault."
