Page 29 of Whispers in the Dark
Olivia exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Mom!”
“No,” Charlotte said, cutting her off. “You and Jackson have a wedding coming up, and I’m not going to let some ghost from the past take that away from you…us.”
Olivia didn’t argue, but her jaw tightened.
Alex knew exactly what she was thinking. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this could just be ignored. But Charlotte was standing there, eyes sharp, shoulders back, a woman who refused to let the past dictate her present.
Ethan exhaled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re doing wedding stuff right now.”
Charlotte turned to him. “I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t.”
Sophie looked between them, something like amusement in her eyes. “It’s actually a smart psychological move. You’re keeping control of the situation instead of letting it control you.”
Charlotte nodded, satisfied.
Alex stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Are you sure?”
She met his gaze, something unreadable flickering there. “Yes.”
He knew better than to argue. Her boundaries were set.
Brad tapped a folder against the table. “While you’re doing that, we’ll keep working through this. If anything changes, we’ll call you.”
Charlotte grabbed her purse, nodding. “Fine.”
Olivia and Sophie hesitated for a fraction of a second before following their mother to the door.
Alex watched them go, something unsettled curling in his gut. Charlotte was balancing on a knife’s edge. She was pretending this wasn’t getting to her. But he’d watched her over the last thirty-six hours. He felt the change.
The moment she stopped moving, when she finally let herself breathe, it was all going to crash down around her. But not today. Today, she was the mother of the bride. And nothing, not even a decades-old nightmare, was going to change that.
Ten
The bellabove the door of Rosalind’s Bridal Boutique jingled as Charlotte stepped inside, followed by her daughters, their laughter filling the boutique like a melody. The scent of fresh roses and delicate lace filled the air, mingling with the soft, airy strains of classical music playing in the background.
“Ladies,” Rosalind greeted them with open arms, her face glowing with the warmth of an old friend. “Right on time! Olivia, my dear, the bride-to-be—you’re up first.”
Olivia, with her auburn curls pinned loosely at her shoulders, grinned, excitement lighting up her hazel eyes. “Let’s do this.”
As they gathered on the comfortable couches, an assistant offered glasses of champagne.
Charlotte took a seat on the plush white couch, watching as Olivia disappeared behind a curtain with Rosalind and her team. Her other daughters—Sophie, the maid of honor, along with Molly, Isobel, and Ruth, perched on the edges of their seats, waiting their turn to try on their selected bridesmaid dresses. All five of her daughters shared the same auburn-red hair, each with their own unique shade and curl pattern, a striking sight against the ivory gowns and delicate pastels filling the shop.
The boutique bustled with excitable energy as Sophie twirled in front of a mirror, holding up the pale champagne-colored dress Olivia and she chose against her frame. The dress had a fitted bodice with intricate beadwork, the fabric shimmering subtly under the soft lighting. “This is going to be perfect, Liv,” she called out, her voice tinged with emotion. “I still can’t believe you’re finally getting married.”
Molly stepped into a dusty-rose gown with delicate off-the-shoulder sleeves. “I feel like a princess,” she murmured, smoothing down the flowing chiffon skirt. “Beats scrubs and spit-up.”
Isobel’s dress was a muted sage green with a sweetheart neckline and soft lace detailing along the hem, complementing her fair complexion. She hesitated before stepping in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric nervously. “Does this look okay?”
Ruth, ever the bold one, emerged in a deep burgundy gown with a sleek silhouette. She gave a twirl, her curls bouncing. “You look amazing, Izzy. We all do.”
Sophie looped an arm around Isobel’s shoulders. “We’re a team. And today, we get to celebrate Liv. No nerves, no doubts.”
Charlotte should have been basking in this moment, soaking in the joy and anticipation, but her instincts had always been sharp, and today was no different. As she turned her head slightly, she caught sight of something outside the shop’s large front window—two men, standing just beyond the parked cars, trying far too hard to look casual. South Dakota Highway Patrol.
Charlotte knew the type well. The stiff posture, the way their eyes flicked toward the shop too often, their clothes just a little too neat, but their boots—the scuffs didn’t match the rest of the story their body language and clothing were trying to tell. And they were watching her. She now knew how Alex let her go without a fight.
She inhaled sharply but forced a smile as Olivia stepped out from behind the curtain. A collective gasp rippled through the room.
