My dad laughed and told me to walk myself down the aisle because I was marrying a nobody. Mom sat beside him in the back row while I walked alone, gripping my bouquet. Then the chapel doors opened, and thirty strangers in matching grey lined the aisle before one faced my father and said, “Sir—”

My mother stood near the diner’s gumball machines, clutching her leather handbag to her chest like a shield. Her immaculate silver hair, usually styled into a perfect, frozen helmet for social events, was straying across her forehead. She looked at the jukebox, at the neon beer signs, at the men and women in grey suits watching her with quiet, guarded eyes.

"Maya," Mom whispered, her voice trembling. "What is this place? Why are you in a... a diner?"

"This is where my friends are, Mom," I said, stopping three feet away from her. "This is where people who actually care about Ethan and me are celebrating."

Caleb stepped forward, placing his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the linoleum floor, unable to meet my eyes. "Maya... the house in South of Broad is crawling with federal agents. They executed a search warrant an hour ago. They've seized Dad’s accounts, the cars, the safe in his study... everything. Mom’s personal credit cards were frozen at the hotel."

I looked at my mother. For my entire life, Katherine Whitmore had been the master of polite silence. Whenever Dad shouted at the dinner table, whenever he belittled my interests, whenever he forced Caleb into sports he hated or humiliated retail workers, Mom would simply smile, adjust her pearl necklace, and say, "Your father works very hard for this family, children. Let it go."

"Is he still in jail?" I asked quietly.

"The magistrate denied bail," Caleb said, a heavy sigh escaping his chest. "Risk of flight. The prosecutor showed the judge the flight confirmation for a charter plane to Grand Cayman booked for seven o'clock tomorrow morning. He... he really was going to leave, Maya. He had a passport and two hundred thousand in cash in his briefcase at the house."

My mother let out a soft, whimpering sound, tears spilling over her mascara. "He told me it was a surprise vacation for our anniversary," she sobbed, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "He told me we were going to the islands for two weeks after your wedding! He lied to me, Maya! He lied to all of us!"

I looked at my mother, feeling a complex mix of pity and lingering anger.

"He didn't start lying yesterday, Mom," I said, keeping my voice firm. "He’s been lying for twenty years. You just chose not to look at the receipts because the country club dues were paid on time."

Mom flinched as if I had slapped her. She looked up, her blue eyes wide with shock. "How can you be so heartless?! Your father is in a detention cell! Our family name is being dragged through the mud on the evening news! And you're sitting in a diner eating fried food with... with strangers!"

"They aren't strangers!" Caleb snapped suddenly, turning on our mother with an unexpected burst of fury that made both Mom and me jump.

"Caleb?" Mom gasped.

"Shut up, Mom! Just shut up!" Caleb shouted, his face turning red. "Do you know who these people are?! That man over there," Caleb pointed at Marcus Bell, "his son spent three years in state prison for a robbery he didn't commit because Dad’s dealership sponsored the corrupt detective who fabricated the evidence! Ethan saved that kid! Dad was the monster here, Mom! Not Maya, and not Ethan!"

The diner fell into an intense, heavy silence. The jukebox was playing a low, bluesy track in the background, but no one moved.

Caleb turned back to me, his shoulders slumping, his eyes brimming with genuine, unscripted tears.

"Maya," Caleb choked out, taking a step toward me. "Dad told me six months ago that if I attended your wedding, he’d take away my college tuition and fire me from the dealership management track. I was a coward. I listened to him. I sat in that pew today and let him humiliate you... and I am so, so sorry."

I stared at my younger brother. Caleb was twenty-two, freshly graduated from college, and had spent his entire youth being groomed as my father's mini-me. But looking at him now, stripped of his father's wealth and promises, I saw the scared boy who used to hide in my bedroom when Dad brought his explosive temper home from the office.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Caleb's neck.