–Laura–
The moment Carrie swaggered into the hall, draped in that blood-red bridesmaid dress, something inside me snapped.
Red—the color of betrayal. Red—the color of blood.
Red—the color they chose to celebrate a wedding they had already slaughtered.
Dad moved before anyone could stop him.
The sound of his hand colliding with Carrie's face cracked through the room like a gunshot.
Silence froze the crowd, just long enough for Grandma Olivia to step in and land her own brutal blow across Carrie's other cheek.
Carrie staggered, clutching her face, mascara streaking down her skin like black scars.
Casey—her mother, the puppet master behind it all—screeched and lunged, but she couldn't undo what was already unleashed.
And then the video played.
A slow, crawling nightmare flickered across the giant screen.
First, the grainy footage of Carrie in Livana's wedding gown—Livana's dress—on her knees before Richard.
My stomach turned violently.
