PART 3
The folder landed in my hands as though it carried the weight of stone.
My name appeared across the very first page.
Grace Marie Bennett.
Defendant.
Defaulted property debt. Civil claim. Pending line. Court date.
For one long second, the bridal boutique vanished. The ivory gowns smeared into pale shapes. Madison’s champagne flute, my mother’s quivering lips, my father’s tightened jaw—all of it drifted away, as if I had sunk beneath deep water.
