Amelia’s POV

The room was frozen. No one moved. No one spoke. I could feel Ryder’s grip on my hand tighten, but not painfully. Just firm—steady.

He leaned close and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

I gave a small nod, my heart thudding too loud in my ears. Camille stood in front of everyone, looking like she’d been dragged through hell and then dressed up to pretend it didn’t matter.

Her hair was a mess, her dress all wrinkled, and the way she looked at me—eyes ...