na'

y ans

heard it all already. Like they

ructed, gesturing for me to follow.

s and departed hours earlier. I followed because the corridor stretc

it would engulf lesser people whole. Wood that glimmered like a mir

remony. "Please go t

r

der, and the door clicked behind me with a

ent

otfalls as if I had no right to leave a mark. The ceiling was so high that it looked as though

en I s

hotog

s. Her. The boutique woman. The one I'd swapped clothes with in the

the d

t smile. Soft, smug, carved. She kn

ith a mirrored closet door. I sh

could never buy even if I worked five lifetimes. All spread out li

thought that s

ic laugh slippe

knees buckled. The photograph glared at me like a ghost in the roo

e was the

aked open ag

came

Bun on her head. The sort of

inally returned home. "You're back. Good. So much to prepare." Her bird-

" I snapped, my vo

unned, as if I'd aske

. You need to be your

My brain

dding? I

w, I know, nerves are terrible. But you have to b

That line. It dropped with

our f

d cold. My min

our f

his mind? My father always used to talk in a drowning-to-debt-island sort of manner. A bad year.

e sel

-

Days

n Two da

Two days of marble silence and velvet lies. I was treated like a queen and watched like a thr

. I pounded on the door until my knuckles were bruised and m

old

untouched food and that pinpoint grandmotherly smile as

lla, Stella. Like if she said it

ut for me. The plush dresses with pearl buttons and silk collars

... wed

t knock. Th

hey had finally abandoned the

set like surgeons getting ready to cut. They revolved around me without so much as a by-y

g on here?" I insisted

tly white. "It's time to get rea

n the face. My heart didn't ju

No, n

ng to me. They were alre

e from moonlight and folklores. Lace, gold thread so fine, a train like a curtain between me a

ed behind me, "It's all

her. The old woman. My

he thought this was beaut

," she said. "You have to

ain. That phras

our f

t on the first night. I remembered her silence when I a

knew n

e truth was too

e stranger's hand in the darkn

that seemed survival to

soul. In the recesses of me that

ll me into the gown, cinch buttons alo

I needed

d to know who t

wn on that aisle to get to

rs l

gined. Silk and lace mingled together like a dream, draping itself around me like a mist. It was not designed for someone like me. I

ana Be

ing me bride-like. It was making me doll-like, mannequin

strongly. It was not the weight of the material; it was the reality of all t

graphers, cameras clicking in all directions. Reporters yelli

lmore, how do you feel

with every part of my reality. Mrs. Volmore. Th

that the world

ience-they all melted into one as I stepped further out into the light

personal. "Mrs. Volmore, what do you think of your husband-to-be?" A reporter stood in my path,

Answers for them

ng, because I wasn't brave

w your fiancé well?" anot

t was rising in my stomach under control. I did

all thoug

ped by the gua

elf if I'd survive the day, if I'd get to the end of the aisle and insist

ors swung op

dome so high that it looked like God himself would be watching

one s

s tu

as cl

d

ss, surrounded by a wedding dress that clung to me like a

tep

were flavored with chains. I didn't walk. I flo

he bride," so

The bride

heir pearls as if this were the

locked doors. Who'd begged. Who'd scraped her nails down mar

ng down the aisle like

Not because I was scarednot because

ere my

t they pi

I saw

gr

f enigma, inscrutable face,

a word as to who pr