Chapter 16
A year after the wedding, I finally watched Elena’s recordings without searching them for evidence.
That changed everything.
The first time, every word was a weapon.
Now I noticed her expressions.
The way she tucked hair behind one ear.
The way she rolled her eyes after saying Marcella’s name.
The small smile when she talked about Vivia being stubborn.
Evidence became memory again.
I needed that.
Rafe found me in the library.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
A good man learns not to correct honest answers.
I played the final minute once more.
Elena held the childhood dress.
“One day Vivia may hate this thing,” she said.
I smiled.
“She may think it’s ugly. Let her.”
Elena looked directly into the camera.
“Don’t turn it into a shrine because I hid something important in it.”
I laughed out loud.
Of course she had anticipated me again.
“She gets to decide what it means after this.”
I stopped the recording.
The next morning I opened Vivia’s memory chest.
The dress was gone.
For one terrible second, panic shot through me.
Then I heard laughter outside.
Vivia was in the garden wearing it over leggings because it had become too short.
She had tied a bright ribbon around the waist.
The repaired seam still showed.
She was chasing Rafe with a wooden sword.
I stood in the doorway.
“Vivia.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Dad weird.”
Fair.
The dress no longer looked like evidence.
It looked like clothing a child had outgrown and refused to surrender.
Exactly what Elena wanted.
That afternoon Vivia spilled juice on it.
I watched the red stain spread.
She froze.
I waited for tears.
Instead she said:
“Oops.”
Then kept eating.
I nearly laughed.
A year earlier, Marcella thought the dress could destroy a wedding.
Elena thought it could preserve truth.
May you like
Now Vivia could stain it with juice and move on.
That might have been the greatest transformation of all.
