Emma, his sister, was a curly‑haired bookworm who immediately grilled me on my favorite authors and her current dissertation topic. They rented modest hotel rooms downtown, took us to a casual Italian place for dinner. Nothing suggested anything other than a regular middle‑class family from rural Montana. Robert talked about the weather. Susan asked if I needed help with anything. Emma told hilarious childhood stories about Mason.

The only oddity? I’d assumed they drove from Montana, but Mason mentioned they flew in. When I asked, he just shrugged. “Dad found a good deal.”

The night before, I lay awake, nervous but excited. Tomorrow, I’d become Mrs. Alleliana Carter. My phone buzzed: an unknown number. “Congratulations on your wedding tomorrow. We’re so looking forward to celebrating with you. —The Carter family.” I smiled in the darkness. At least someone would be there to witness our vows. Little did I know, by tomorrow night, I’d be questioning everything I thought I knew about the quiet carpenter I was about to marry.

Wedding morning dawned bright with Colorado’s signature brilliant blue sky. My maid of honor, Sarah, was already buzzing around my childhood friend’s guest room. “Today’s the day, Mrs. Carter,” she sang. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrified and excited and nauseous,” I admitted, pulling covers over my head. “Is that normal?”

“Completely normal,” she laughed, tugging me out of bed. “Now get up. Your hair appointment is in an hour.”

At the salon, as the stylist coaxed my long brown hair into soft vintage waves, my phone rang—Aunt Margaret. My heart jumped.

“Margaret, are you okay?”