Amelia pov

The house was unusually quiet that morning, the kind of quiet that pressed against my ears and made every thought louder than it should be. Two days. That was all that stood between me and the wedding. Two days until vows, smiles, photographs, and a future I kept insisting was the right one. I moved through the living room with a clipboard tucked under my arm, checking off tasks—flowers confirmed, seating chart finalized, caterer paid. Normal things. Safe things. Things that ...