“She had to pay for what she did to Beatrice,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth.
In that single moment, Grace finally understood that her son’s wedding had never truly been a joyful celebration.
It had been a carefully designed trap, constructed with flowers, music, laughter, and false blessings.
And she knew, with a sinking dread, that the worst was certainly still ahead.
PART 2
Not one person in the house managed to sleep for even a second during that long, horrifying morning.
The house, which only hours before had been alive with the sounds of a live jazz band, laughter, and glasses clinking together, now felt silent as a tomb.
The tables in the garden were still perfectly arranged, the remains of the feast standing as evidence of the night’s deception.
The large decorative sign displaying Caleb and Katherine’s names still hung crookedly near the main entrance.
In the living room, Grace sat staring at a professional photograph of the newlyweds smiling brightly in front of the altar, and she felt as though the picture belonged to an entirely different, happier life that had been wiped away.
At four o’clock in the morning, the heavy door to the guest suite slowly creaked open.
Katherine stepped out, her bridal veil lost somewhere in the dark, her makeup streaked across her cheeks, and her dress still clinging to her thin body.
She walked straight toward Grace, and before the older woman could say even one word, Katherine dropped to her knees at her feet.
“Please, you must forgive me,” Katherine said, her voice small and broken.
Grace felt a surge of maternal panic rush through her.
“Forgive you for what, my dear? Please, stand up and come sit with me,” she implored, reaching down to help her.
Katherine shook her head hard, refusing to rise from the floor.
“Forgive me because I knew that Caleb had once been in love with another woman,” she admitted, her voice trembling.
“But I did not know that he had married me specifically to punish me for her absence,” she added.
Grace finally helped her stand and brought her into the kitchen, where she poured her a glass of water with shaking hands.
“Tell me everything, leave nothing out,” Grace urged, her voice gentle but firm.
Katherine drew in a deep, shuddering breath before she started speaking.
“When we finally walked into our bedroom, he was acting completely strange and distant,” she started.
“At first, he spoke to me nicely enough, asking if I wanted anything to drink, and he locked the door behind us,” she continued.
“But then his entire demeanor shifted, and he looked at me with such venom that I felt like a complete stranger, like an enemy,” she explained.
“He told me that that night I was finally going to understand exactly what it meant to have my life completely destroyed by someone else,” she added, her eyes watering again.
Grace closed her eyes, trying to push away the image of her son being capable of such cruelty.
“Did he lay a hand on you? Did he hurt you physically?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.
