Chapter 2

That afternoon the whole group went straight into a livestream, recording the entire thing.

The tourism board was drawing in viewers first.

【The Legendary Vinewood Heritage Wedding, in One Continuous Shot】

The doctor worked on my wound while the wall screen ran the livestream in real time.

Beryl had dropped all her usual arrogance, greeting the camera with warmth.

“Next, we're going to show you the most authentic Vinewood wedding.”

The stylists wheeled out the gown, and Beryl introduced it with a smile.

“A Vinewood heritage wedding is all about the details, especially the dress.”

“The bridal gown isn't rented. You have to find a seamstress and have it custom-made half a year in advance.”

“It has to follow the bride's figure exactly. Not a single loose line anywhere.”

The gown Ervin had me pick a design for half a year ago, but no one ever took my measurements.

I'd asked him about it. If they don't measure me, what happens if it doesn't fit?

He'd said:

“The ones I found are all old-school tailors. One look and they know exactly what size suits you.”

But now I saw it. It wasn't that the tailors didn't measure. They'd measured someone else all along.

The staff led the bridesmaids inside to go over the sequence, then noticed something was off.

“There should be an even number. How is one missing?”

One of the bridesmaids quickly explained: “One of our bridesmaids had a stomachache and went to the hospital.”

Beryl's face soured again. She looked ready to snap at someone, but with the camera on her she just glanced toward Mom.

Less than two minutes later, my phone rang. It was Mom.

“On the wedding day, you'll wear the bridesmaid dress and walk through it with your sister.”

“And when the last part of the ceremony is done, you'll hand over the winemaking recipe your father left you. As a gift for your sister.”

I thought I'd misheard.

In Vinewood, every household had its own winemaking recipe.

The recipe was your lifeblood.

I'd loved making wine since I was small, so Dad gave his recipe to me.

He wanted me to make more wine that people would love.

My brother's voice cut in:

“It's just a recipe. Don't be so petty.”

“All these years you've eaten off the Pruitts, lived off the Pruitts. Now they're not even asking for a bride price, and you should count yourself lucky.”

The doctor started the stitches. My hand jerked once, but I swallowed the pain fast.

“You say I ate off the Pruitts and lived off the Pruitts. Want me to run you the numbers?”

“Dad died when I was in middle school. From the summer of that first year, Mom shipped me off to work summer jobs. She called it easing the burden of raising a Pruitt child.”

“Living in this house, you charged me for everything, room and board both. A thousand a month for the room, ten for breakfast, thirty for dinner.”

“I paid it for ten years. The cleaning, the laundry, the cooking, I did all that on top of it……”

Back then I didn't dare get sick, because Mom said medicine was expensive, and if she had to sit with me, it was a hundred an hour.

Parent-teacher conferences were billed separately.

Because once Mom got married, she wasn't only my mother anymore.

But the rules Mom set never applied to Beryl or to my brother.

They ate, slept, and got sick without paying a cent, and Mom had endless time to spend on them.

I was the natural accident, it seemed.

“Mom, I don't owe you people anything.”

“And my dad owed you even less.”

“I won't give up the recipe, and I won't be a bridesmaid.”

My words set Mom off.

Her roar came down the line.

“You do owe me. From the moment I gave birth to you instead of leaving you out on the street, you've owed me.”

“Fine, don't give me the recipe. Then forget your wedding jewelry, and forget your wedding while you're at it.”

I'd never wanted any of it to begin with.

A threat like that meant nothing.

“Do whatever you want.”

Not long after, a few photos popped up in the family group chat we all shared.

Photos of Beryl wearing the gold jewelry.

Mom was underneath, laying on the praise.

【Beryl wears these so much better than a certain someone.】

【Beryl's so pretty.】

Ervin added his own compliment too:

【Beautiful.】

Looking at that one word, my heart ached a little.

The doctor snipped the thread short and sighed:

“Some feelings, when it's time to cut them off, you cut them off.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Leaving the hospital, my best friend texted to say she was coming to pick me up.

I'd just reached the entrance to wait when a few thugs blocked my way, comparing me against a photo.

“That's her, no mistake.”

“Ervin says she made his sister mad. Told us to teach her a lesson.”

I was about to call for help when a hand cracked hard across my face.

They spoke first.

“Bitch. Stole from my buddy's sister and still won't give it back.”

“We'll make you sorry.”