I actually let out a breath I’d been holding for an hour.
Maybe she’d listened to me after all. Maybe we were going to make it through this night in one piece.
The cake was cut. Emma and Michael had their first dance, swaying under the lights while everyone watched with soft, misty smiles. For a little while, I let myself believe the worst was behind us.
Then the DJ picked up his microphone.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to invite the bride and her father to the dance floor.”
Tom rose from his seat. Emma stood too.
And then a voice rang through the speakers.
“Wait.“
Part Seven: The Microphone
Every head in the ballroom turned.
Sophie was standing beside the DJ booth. She had his second microphone in her hand.
Emma went completely still.
“Sophie,” I said. It came out barely louder than a whisper.
Too late.
“Before they do this,” Sophie said, her voice steady and clear, “there’s something everyone here should know.”
Tom’s face changed. “Put the microphone down, Sophie.”
She ignored him.
“Emma originally planned for Uncle Daniel to cut in and join this dance halfway through.”
A murmur rippled across the room.
