The crowd recoiled, whispers swelling into frantic murmurs. Faces turned to Liam, desperate for an answer, for some sign of denial. But he didn’t step back. He didn’t object. He only held Stephanie’s hands tighter, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable. Clara’s knees threatened to give way. “Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling as her gaze locked on him.
“Why are you doing this?” For the briefest instant, Liam looked at her, a shadow of something flickering in his eyes—pain, regret, fear—but it vanished as quickly as it came. To everyone else, it looked like choice, like devotion to her sister over her. The officiant cleared his throat nervously, his face pale.