“Naomi, we are running late. Come on.”
“Tell me something, Mom,” I said, meeting her eyes. “What exactly was I supposed to be signing this week?”
Her smile didn’t disappear. It froze. There is a difference.
The Bridal Suite Goes Quiet
We walked inside together. The tension between us was as thick and suffocating as humidity.
The bridal suite had been designed for joy. There were flowers on every surface, champagne in a silver bucket, and the soft hum of morning talk radio in the background. Stylists stood near Emily, who sat at the center of the room in a white robe, her hair half pinned.
She looked up at us and read the room immediately.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing,” my mother said quickly. “Naomi’s just feeling overwhelmed.”
“Stop,” Daniel said sharply.
The word surprised everyone, including him.
I set my phone face-up on the vanity table and looked at my sister directly.
“They planned to have me sign away my voting shares this morning,” I said. “During your wedding. While you were getting ready.”
Emily blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a routine restructuring,” my father said from the doorway.
“You used the word takeover,” I replied. “Twice.”
Emily turned slowly toward our mother. Her expression was not shock. It was something quieter and more complicated than that.
“Did you know about this?” she asked.
My mother hesitated for one second too long.
“I was protecting you,” she finally said. “Naomi controls too much. She always has.”
