A knot formed low in my stomach.
I stared at the door.
Clementine had no reason to be there.
For a few seconds, I tried to convince myself not to follow.
Maybe she was attending another wedding at the hotel.
Maybe she had gone through the wrong door.
Maybe there was an explanation that had nothing to do with me.
But she had looked nervous.
Not confused.
Nervous.
So I followed her.
The hallway was quieter than the ballroom.
The music became a dull pulse behind me.
When I reached the bridal suite, the door hadn’t closed completely.
I pushed it open.
Inside, Clementine was standing beside the bride’s dress, frantically searching through a small white bag.
“Clementine?”
She spun around.
The color drained from her face.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Her hands moved immediately.
