Page 49 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

Emma lets out another bone-chilling scream as Harper’s charred phone floats to the surface in a final shower of sparks.

Harper pulls her hand back quickly as two attendants in white uniforms rush toward us.

“Don’t touch the water,” I say to one of the attendants, a young guy who looks about twenty-five with wiry dark hair. “I think it’s electrified somehow.”

His eyes go wide while the other attendant bends down and opens a panel on the side of the tub. “I’m going to turn it off,” he says.

He flips a switch, and Harper’s phone stops buzzing.

We stand in shocked silence, the air, well,charged, all of us breathing raggedly.

Holy shit. Did that just happen?

That could’ve been me, or Harper, or Emma in there.

Or Simone.

She shouldn’t be an afterthought, but she is. I know that makes me a bad person, but that’s not the relevant point right now.

Someoneistrying to kill someone at this wedding.

Not good.

When I get my bearings, I bend down next to the attendant, looking into the panel. But I don’t know what I’m looking at. I feel like a guy standing over the open hood of a car—I have to pretend I know what I’m doing even though I don’t.

“Crossed wire?” I say.

“Maybe. Or a short.”

“Has this ever happened before?”

“Not that I know of. José would know.”

“José?”

“The electrician.”

“Who has access to this panel besides him?”

“It’s usually locked,”

“Was it?”

“No...Why?” He looks at me. “You think this was on purpose?”

“What?” Emma says. “What do you mean?” Her face is locked in horror.

“I want to make sure this wasn’t deliberate.”

“Why would it be deliberate?” Simone asks, the calmest of all of us.

“That’s a good question.”

“You think someone is trying to kill one of the wedding guests?”

I stand slowly. “I didn’t say that.”

She narrows her eyes at me. She’s always been smart—I’ll give her that. “And who do you think the victim was supposed to be? You?”

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