A cold dread coiled in my gut, replacing the butterflies that had been there since the ceremony. I looked down at Ivy, who was sitting between Marcus and me. She was busy coloring on her kids’ menu, oblivious to the guillotine blade hanging over her mother’s neck. She looked like an angel in her pale pink flower girl dress, her unruly red curls bouncing as she hummed a quiet tune.

“Marcus deserves the very best in life,” Dolores continued, pacing slightly. “He deserves a woman who can give him everything he needs. Everything he dreams of. He deserves a partner who can focus completely on him and their future together.”