Chapter 5 - THE MISSING GARMENT BAG
Three days before the wedding, the Sterling family’s corporate counsel received a federal document-preservation notice regarding foundation accounts, signaling that an audit was officially underway. Though Vivian didn't know I was the architect behind the subpoena, she knew the walls were closing in, turning her into an erratic, snapping tyrant. Then came 9:17 p.m. the night before the ceremony. I entered the bridal suite at Larks Hill Estate to find my custom lace wedding garment bag hanging open and completely empty.
In its place hung the atrocious red-and-white striped clown costume, complete with oversized plastic buttons, a stiff white collar, and a foam red nose tucked into the pocket, accompanied by a petty note: Know your place. Mina, my maid of honor, swore so loudly my father came running from the hallway. While Mina panicked and demanded we call security or Holt, my father studied my face with quiet intuition. He didn't offer empty platitudes; he simply asked what I needed. When I told him to help me with the zipper on the clown suit, he nodded without hesitation.
