"At my sister’s wedding, my father leaned close enough that only I could hear him. “Try not to ruin this the way you ruin everything else.”

My name echoed through the auditorium.

I walked across the stage.

There was no cheering from my family.

Instead, Dad’s voice could be heard quietly in the recording.

“Finally. Maybe now he’ll get a job and move out.”

The reception hall grew noticeably quieter.

A fork clinked against a plate.

My uncle leaned toward Dad.

Elise’s smile faded.

Then another clip appeared.

Christmas morning.

Dad handing Elise a set of car keys.

She screamed with excitement.

The camera drifted past me sitting on the couch as though I were part of the furniture.

By then, nobody was talking.

I looked toward the head table.

Carson was staring at the screen.

Dad’s jaw had tightened.

Mom held a napkin near her mouth.

Then the balcony video began.

Wind.

Laughter.

Shaky footage.

Elise appeared on screen holding that bright pink drink.

Carson froze with his glass halfway to his lips.

Elise went completely still.

Dad looked at the projector.

Then at me.

For the first time that entire evening, nobody was laughing.

Even the children at my table had stopped moving.

I folded my hands calmly in front of me.

Then Elise’s own voice filled the reception hall.

And the first sentence came through the speakers.