More than I’d ever spent on a dress for myself.
I stood in front of the mirror for nearly twenty minutes, trying to convince myself I didn’t need it.
Red had never been my color.
Red was bold.
Confident.
Visible.
And I had spent most of my life learning not to draw attention to myself.
But for once, I wanted something simply because it made me feel beautiful.
So I bought the dress.
I had no idea how important it would become.
Two weeks later, Camille learned about the anniversary party.
She called me sounding delighted.
“Liv! Mom told me you booked Alderwood! That place is gorgeous!”
“It’s lovely,” I agreed.
“We should plan it together. I’ll help you host.”
“Everything is already arranged.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You’ll need help. It’ll be much more fun if we do it together.”
I hesitated.
Then I agreed.
It seemed harmless.
At first, Camille began adding guests.
Her book club friends.
Coworkers from the real-estate office where she worked.
Parents she’d met through Hannah’s school.
Several people our parents barely knew.
The guest list expanded from forty to sixty-two.
Then Camille contacted the florist and requested larger arrangements.
She said the original flowers were too small to photograph well.
After that, she upgraded the champagne.
She insisted the guests should be served an expensive French brand rather than the restaurant’s standard selection.
Then she added a seafood station featuring shrimp and oysters.
I didn’t find out about most of these changes until Daniel called me.
“Miss Doyle, your sister has requested several additions to the celebration. Since your card is responsible for the remaining balance, I wanted to confirm them with you.”
I stood in my office staring at the wall.
“How much more will it cost?”
He gave me the estimate.
The total was nearly twice the original amount.
I should have refused.
I know that now.
But I could already imagine what would happen.
Camille would complain to Mom.
Mom would call me.
