The laughter from the wedding hall drifted into the cool California night, mingling with the scent of roses and champagne. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe everything was perfect. My son, Ryan, had just married the woman he adored—Sophie Bennett. From the moment I met her, I sensed something sharp beneath her charm.
But it was Ryan’s day, and not the time to voice my doubts.
As guests settled in for dinner, I glanced at the seating chart. My name wasn’t listed beside my family’s—it was tucked away at Table 23, near the service area. Surely, I thought, it was an oversight. I found Sophie near the cake table and approached her gently.
“There must be some mistake.”
Her smile was sweet but icy.
“Oh, no, Mrs. Hale,” she replied. “You’re exactly where you belong.”
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