Chapter 1

On my wedding day, I walked into the ballroom in my gown—and my fiancé Julian, along with my entire family, acted like they had no idea who I was.

Julian had his arm around my sister Chloe, looking genuinely confused. "She's my bride. I think you've got the wrong venue."

Mom and Dad frowned too. "Who is she? Can someone please escort her out?"

Up on the big screen, Julian's name sat right next to Chloe's.

Hundreds of guests were staring at me. Some were whispering that I was crazy. Others already had their phones out.

I looked at my parents, then at the man who was supposed to marry me today, and started babbling that I was the bride.

That's when Chloe burst out laughing.

Julian looked down at her with this doting smile. Mom was dabbing at tears from laughing so hard. Dad was literally filming me with his phone.

Chloe grabbed my arm. "Okay, okay, we're done messing with you. Oh my God, you actually bought it? Come on, come help me touch up my makeup."

The second I turned around, Chloe yanked at the clasps on the back of my dress.

The gown slipped off my shoulders, leaving me in just my underwear. I bent down in a panic to grab it, but Chloe caught my hand.

"Don't be mad yet—I've got a surprise for you. Remember that custom gown you kept saying was too expensive?"

She led me to the lounge. The second the door opened, buckets of red paint came pouring down on me.

"Surprise!"

Mom, Dad, Julian, and Chloe were all holding plastic buckets, cracking up.

"Do you love it, sis? We got you a custom red wedding gown!"

I stood in the doorway clutching the soaked dress, red paint dripping from my hair onto my face.

Enough.

This stupid joke needed to end.

...

The hem of the gown was heavy with paint, dragging on the floor. The chemical smell made me gag a few times.

I hadn't said a word. Slowly, the smile faded from Chloe's face.

"Nora, are you mad?"

Julian walked over and draped his jacket over my shoulders.

"Come on, Chloe just didn't want you to be nervous at the wedding. She was trying to lighten the mood."

Chloe grabbed the hem of his shirt and ducked behind him. He glanced back at her and let her hold on.

Mom brought over some wet wipes and reached for my face.

"Sweetheart, we'll help you clean up. Chloe put so much work into this. We didn't realize you'd be such a scaredy-cat about it. Don't blame her."

I jerked away from her hand and let out a cold laugh.

"You ripped my dress off at my own wedding, then dumped red paint all over me. And you think this is funny?"

Dad put his phone away. "Alright, maybe this one went a little far. But she knows you're upset now. Stop yelling at her."

"I'm not yelling."

"Nora." Mom's brow furrowed in disapproval. "She's crying. Let everyone cool off for a minute, okay?"

I'd been hearing lines like this for fifteen years.

Chloe was ten when her parents died in a car accident. Mom had been friends with her mother, so my parents adopted her and brought her home to Seattle.

Her first day with us, Mom told me to move out of my bedroom—the one with the balcony.

"She just lost her family. Let her have the room she likes, okay?"

Later, my parents canceled my summer science program and used the money to pay her private school tuition.

"She's not doing well at public school. You can apply again next year."

She liked my new dress, so Mom made me give it to her. She didn't like eating alone, so we had to wait for her to come home—even if she'd already eaten out with her friends.

Even when Julian and I went on dates, we usually had to bring her along. I was afraid that if we left her behind, she'd cry and ask me if having a boyfriend meant I didn't care about her anymore.

Gradually, I became the one who got forgotten before family outings, the one whose order got left off when they ordered takeout.

I thought today, of all days, they'd finally put me first.

The gown, the flowers, the menu—I'd picked out every single thing myself. I'd been looking forward to Dad walking me down the aisle, to Mom sitting in the front row watching me and Julian exchange our vows.

Now my dress was soaking in red paint, the wedding I'd spent months planning was wrecked, and I was the punchline. And they still wanted me to worry about Chloe's feelings.

Mom pulled her close. Dad stepped in front of her like a shield.

I looked at them, my throat tight.

"Did you all forget? I'm the bride today. I'm your daughter."