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. “I can’t do this,” my dad said.
Lena whispered, “This was supposed to be my chance.” For the first time since my mother died, the truth wasn’t being smoothed over. And this time, I didn’t stay quiet.
