494 — Oops. Guess You’ll Have to Wear Something Else Tomorrow.

I found Madison in the upstairs bathroom, scrubbing her hands beneath the faucet.

She looked up when I entered.

“What do you want now?””

I closed the door behind me.

“Show me the proof.””

Her expression flickered.

“What proof?””

“The proof that Daniel has been seeing someone else.””

For a second, the only sound was running water.

Then Madison turned off the faucet.

“You spoke to Margaret?””

“Yes.””

She reached for a towel.

“I don't know what you're talking about.””

“You told Daniel's mother that he was having second thoughts. You sent her a message supposedly written by him. You told her you had proof he was cheating.””

Madison dried her hands slowly.

“Maybe you should ask your fiancé why his mother believed me.””

I stepped closer.

“Because you lied.””

“Can you prove that?””

I stared at her.

She smiled.

“That's what I thought.””

I wanted to grab the towel from her hands and throw it across the room. Instead, I forced myself to take a breath.

“Madison, if you have something to show me, show me. If you don't, stop trying to destroy my relationship.””

She opened the bathroom cabinet and removed a small envelope.

My heart began to pound.

She held it between two fingers.

“You want to see?””

“Yes.””

She pulled out a photograph.

It showed Daniel standing outside a restaurant, his arm around a woman with long dark hair.

The woman was smiling up at him.

Daniel's face was turned toward hers.

The picture had been taken at night, beneath the warm glow of a streetlamp.

I recognized the restaurant.

It was a little Italian place near his office where we had celebrated our first anniversary.

I also recognized the woman.

Her name was Claire.

She worked in Daniel's department.

I had met her twice.

Madison watched my expression carefully.

“Now do you understand?””

I stared at the photograph.

My first instinct was to reject it.

Daniel had never given me a reason to doubt him. He was the person who remembered my mother's birthday, who called me during his lunch break, who knew I hated being left alone when I was upset.

But the photograph looked real.

“Where did you get this?”” I asked.

Madison shrugged.

“Someone sent it to me.””

“Who?””

“Does it matter?””

“Yes.””

She slipped the photograph back into the envelope.

“Maybe you should postpone the wedding until you figure out whether your fiancé actually loves you.””

I felt my eyes burning.

“Give me the photograph.””

“No.””

“Madison.””

“Or what? You'll tell Dad?””

She laughed.

“Go ahead. He'll tell you to forgive me.””

The words struck too close to home.

I reached for the envelope.

Madison pulled it away.

“Careful,” she said.

“You wouldn't want to ruin the only evidence you have.””

I stared at her.

Then I noticed something in the corner of the photograph.

A reflection in the restaurant window.

The streetlamp.

The woman.

And a faint digital timestamp.

I couldn't read the exact date from where I stood, but I could see the month.

It was February.

Daniel and I had been in different states in February.

He had traveled to Chicago for a work conference. I had stayed home to finish a construction project that was running behind schedule.

He had called me every night.

He had sent me pictures of the hotel room, the conference hall, and the ridiculous breakfast buffet he claimed was the worst meal he'd ever eaten.

I remembered one particular evening when we'd stayed on the phone for nearly two hours because I couldn't sleep.

But the photograph didn't prove anything by itself.

I needed the original.

“Let me see it again,” I said.

Madison shook her head.

“Ask Daniel.””

I turned toward the door.

Behind me, she called, “And Emily?””

I stopped.

“Don't forget to thank me. If I hadn't found this, you might have married a liar.””

I looked back at her.

“You're not trying to protect me.””

Her smile disappeared.

“You're trying to make sure I'm miserable.””

For the first time, Madison looked genuinely angry.

“You think you're better than me.””

“No,” I said.

“I think you could have been happy for me.””

I left before she could answer.

Daniel was waiting in my bedroom.

When I told him about the photograph, he listened without interrupting.

Then he shook his head.

“I know exactly what picture she's talking about.””

My stomach tightened.

“You do?””

“Emily, that picture was taken last year. Claire and I had lunch after the conference because we were both waiting for our flights. Her ride arrived, and she hugged me goodbye.””

“You were in Chicago?””

“Yes.””

“But the photograph says February.””

“Because it was February.””

I stared at him.

He took out his phone.

“I have the conference registration, my hotel receipt, and the travel itinerary. I can show you everything.””

He opened his email and found the documents.

The dates matched.

The hotel was in Chicago.

The restaurant in the photograph was in Chicago, too.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

“Why would Madison have this?””

“Someone took a picture of me and Claire and sent it to her.””

“Who?””

Daniel frowned.

“I don't know.””

He enlarged the photograph on his phone.

The image was grainy, but he noticed something I hadn't.

A small white logo in the bottom corner.

It looked like a watermark from a photo-printing service.

Daniel's expression changed.

“Wait.””

He opened his email again and searched for the conference name.

A few seconds later, he found a message from Claire.

It had been sent three weeks after the conference.

Hey, Daniel! I found those photos from the team dinner. Attaching them here in case you want any. See you Monday.

There were four attachments.

Daniel opened them.

The first showed the entire team sitting around a long table.

The second showed Daniel and Claire outside the restaurant, laughing.

The third showed them standing beneath the streetlamp.

The fourth showed Claire hugging him goodbye.

The photograph Madison had used was a cropped version of the third image.

Daniel turned the phone toward me.

“See? There were other people there. Someone just cut them out.””

I studied the original photograph.

He was right.

In the uncropped image, two coworkers stood several feet behind them.

A taxi waited at the curb.

Nothing about the photograph suggested an affair.

It was a moment taken out of context and sharpened into a weapon.

I felt a wave of relief.

Then another feeling followed it.

Anger.

“She knew it was misleading,” I whispered.

“Of course she did.””

“She wanted me to doubt you.””

Daniel took my hands.

“Emily, look at me.””

I did.

“I love you. I'm marrying you tomorrow. And if Madison spends the rest of her life trying to convince you otherwise, I'll keep telling you the truth.””

My eyes filled.

“I hate that I even looked at the photograph and wondered.””

“You're allowed to wonder. Someone you trusted is trying to manipulate you.””

He kissed my forehead.

For a few seconds, I leaned against him and let the fear drain away.

Then Sophie appeared in the doorway.

She was holding a laptop.

“Emily, I think I found something.””

She set the computer on the dresser.

“The wedding cancellation was sent from your email account, but the login came from an unfamiliar device.””

I leaned forward.

“Can you see which one?””

Sophie clicked through the account security page.

“There. A Windows laptop logged in at 8:41 tonight.””

My stomach dropped.

I knew that laptop.

It was the old computer Dad kept in the study.

Madison used it whenever she wanted to print something.

Sophie clicked on the session details.

“The device is still active.””

Daniel stared at the screen.

“Can we find out what else was sent?””

Sophie nodded.

She opened the account's sent folder.

The cancellation message was there.

So was another email.

It had been sent to the venue manager two hours earlier.

The subject line read:

*Final Confirmation — Wedding Cancellation*

I opened it.

The message claimed that Daniel and I had decided to cancel the ceremony and reception. It requested a refund of the remaining balance and instructed the venue to release the date to another client.

At the bottom was my electronic signature.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

“She didn't just tell our guests the wedding was canceled,” I whispered.

“She tried to cancel the venue.””

Daniel leaned closer.

“Did the manager respond?””

I clicked the thread.

There was one reply.

Dear Emily, we cannot process this request without verification from both parties. We have temporarily suspended further vendor coordination pending confirmation.

I sank into the chair.

If the venue manager hadn't questioned the request, our wedding could have been canceled without either of us knowing.

Sophie stared at the screen.

“Emily, this isn't ordinary jealousy.””

“No,” I whispered.

I scrolled farther down the email thread.

There was a second attachment.

A PDF document.

Its title was:

*Carter Wedding — Financial Authorization*

I opened it.

The first page listed the venue, the catering deposit, the floral contract, and the outstanding balance.

The second page contained a request to redirect the refund into a different bank account.

I stared at the account holder's name.

Madison Carter.

Daniel's voice was low.

“She was trying to get your money.””

I couldn't answer.

The amount wasn't small.

The requested refund totaled $18,600, including the venue deposit, the catering balance, and several prepaid services.

Madison had tried to cancel my wedding and divert the money I had spent nearly a year saving.

I looked at Sophie.

“Can you save all of this?””

“Already doing it.””

She downloaded the email headers, the login information, and the attached PDF.

Daniel took a screenshot of the account details.

I sat motionless, staring at the document.

Then I heard footsteps in the hallway.

A moment later, Madison appeared in the doorway.

She stopped when she saw the laptop.

Her eyes moved to the open PDF.

Then to me.

For the first time that night, she looked frightened.

“What are you doing?”” she demanded.

I turned the screen toward her.

“Planning to explain this.””

She glanced at the document.

Then she looked at Vanessa, who had appeared behind her.

Vanessa's face went white.

Madison took one step backward.

“You weren't supposed to see that.””

The words came out before she could stop them.

Nobody moved.

I stared at my stepsister.

She stared back.

Then she spun around and ran down the hall.

Daniel started after her, but I caught his arm.

“Let her go,” I said.

He looked at me.

“Emily—”

“I want her to think she still has a chance to explain herself.””

Because I had just realized something.

Madison hadn't simply wanted me to cancel my wedding.

She had wanted to cancel it in a way that made her the person who controlled what happened next.

And if she had gone to the trouble of creating fake evidence, accessing my email, and redirecting nearly twenty thousand dollars, then she wasn't acting alone.

I looked at Vanessa.

My stepmother had not moved.

Her eyes were fixed on the laptop.

“Did you know?”” I asked.

She lifted her chin.

“Know what?””

I pointed at the PDF.

“Did you know your daughter was trying to steal my wedding money?””

Vanessa opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Finally, she whispered, “You don't understand what that money was supposed to be for.””