For one terrible, breathless second, I understood exactly what Sophie believed she had just done.
She believed she had set her sister free.
Then Emma gathered up her skirt and walked across the dance floor.
Straight toward her.
Part Eight: “Don’t Ever Do That to Me Again”
“Give me the microphone,” Emma said.
Sophie smiled, a little shaky, a little proud. “Emma, I…”
“Give it to me.”
Sophie handed it over.
Emma turned to face the room. Then she turned back to her sister.
“I love you,” she said.
Sophie’s smile grew.
Emma’s didn’t.
“But don’t you ever do that to me again.”
The ballroom went so quiet I could hear the hum of the speakers.
Sophie stared at her. “I was defending you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“He threatened not to come to your wedding, Emma!”
“I know.”
“Then why are you angry at me?”
Emma’s hand tightened around the microphone until her knuckles went pale.
“Because Dad decided what I was allowed to do at my own wedding.” She swallowed hard. “And then you decided how I was supposed to fix it.”
That stopped Sophie cold.
“I was trying to help.”
