Then they shifted.

He listens to me better than anyone.
I know how she did things. He responds when I do them the same way.
Adrienne was just a placeholder.

I felt sick.

“This wasn’t grief,” I said. “She replaced my mother.”

Grandma nodded, crying. “I should have stopped it.”

“They’re getting married today,” I whispered.

“I have to tell him.”

When we returned, the ceremony had already begun. Lena stood in white, smiling at my father.

“Wait,” I said.

The room froze.

“Dad,” I said, holding up the tablet. “This isn’t love. It’s replacement.”

Lena denied it. My father looked at her—and stepped back.

“Oh God,” he said. “It’s true.”

The officiant lowered his hands.