The Gates Estate.

With only two days left until the wedding, the whole place was bursting with excitement. Red lanterns and fancy carpets covered almost every inch of the house. The color was so bold it almost hurt to look at.

Charlotte was sunk into the sofa, chin propped on a soft pillow, her whole body slouched and drained of energy.

“Charlotte, have some apple,” Robert offered as he walked over, his smile warm.

“Thanks, Grandpa.” She reached for the apple, took a bite, and her pretty brows scrunched up just a little.

It tasted kind of sour. Not nearly as sweet as the apples from Imperial Heights.

“Lottie, drink some milk.” Nora set a glass beside her, gently smoothing Charlotte's hair. Her voice was soft. “What’s wrong? Not feeling happy today?”

Charlotte shook her head, but she couldn’t have looked more obvious if she’d tattooed “I miss Anthony” on her forehead.

“You’ll see Anthony the day after tomorrow.” Nora stroked her cheek, trying to soothe her. “Your grandpa says no seeing each other before the wedding. The rules.”

“Your brothers will be home tonight. You’ll have people to hang out with.”

“Just hold on, okay?”

Charlotte pouted, not really agreeing or refusing. Her dark eyes wandered restlessly across the room.

The groom can’t come see the bride... but can the bride go find the groom?

It was already evening when Donald, Roger, and Kenneth all made it back home.

“You guys hang out with Lottie. I really need a shower,” Donald announced as soon as he came in. He’d come straight from a flight, his clothes still dusty.

“Not feeling well?” Roger tossed his suit jacket aside, loosened his tie, undid a button or two, and collapsed onto the sofa. He looked as if he belonged in some old painting, aloof and untouched by the world.

“I’m fine,” Charlotte said, curled up with her phone, tapping away at a game with zero enthusiasm.

“You don’t look fine at all,” Kenneth said. He flopped down on the other side of her, all casual—his hair was artfully permed and colored a warm brown, his smile bright and easy. “I wonder what Anthony is doing these nights. Bet he’s just as lost without you.”

Charlotte stilled, barely glancing up as she turned her attention to Kenneth. “Samantha was organizing some stuff earlier. She found a bunch of old photos,” she said, sounding bored.

“Photos?” Kenneth grabbed a grape from the fruit bowl, popped it into his mouth, clearly not catching where this was going. “Whose photos?”

“No idea.” Charlotte put away her game, tapped into the photo album, and flashed the phone toward Kenneth, lifting an eyebrow. “Someone who’s, well, ugly-cute.”

“Ugly?” Kenneth chewed on his grape, glanced at the screen—and then his face changed entirely. He sprang to his feet. “That has to be…”

The photo showed a toddler, maybe two years old. He was chubby, teary-eyed, wearing nothing but a pair of old-fashioned split pants. There was a wet stain spreading on the white bedsheet underneath him.

“Do you think Emily is still awake?” Charlotte shifted comfortably, her lazy smile growing sly. “Something tells me she’d love to see this!”

“Lottie…” Kenneth shot forward, aiming for the phone to snatch it away.

He and Emily were official now, a real couple, but things were still new and delicate. There was no way he could let this photo ruin everything he’d worked for in her eyes.

“You want the phone?” Charlotte wasn’t bothered at all. She set her phone on the table in front of her, swinging her legs, eyes narrowing for dramatic effect. Her words came out slow and challenging. “Go on. Try it.”

“I…” Kenneth froze, staring at the phone just out of reach, then back at Charlotte’s determined look. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so brave.