That was the breaking point. Clara stumbled backward, her gown catching on the edge of the steps, her hands trembling as she ripped free. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand there another second while her sister spoke the words that were meant to be hers. Tears blurred her sight as she turned and ran, the gasps and murmurs of the crowd chasing her down the aisle.
Guests rose in confusion, some calling her name, but she didn’t look back. Every step felt like fire beneath her feet, her humiliation echoing louder than the music that had once welcomed her. By the time she burst through the doors into the open air, Clara’s sobs tore free.