Mom's voice was terrified. "Sophia, they think you were the only one who had access to the planning portal."
“What portal?” I asked.
"All the wedding accounts. You helped Emily set them up months ago."
Sure. A Google Drive folder. Shared login information. Back when I thought I'd be her maid of honor—before I was unceremoniously cut.
But I haven't touched anything since then.
Mom sighed, as if she didn't quite believe me. "It all comes down to your email."
A mixture of anger and nausea washed over me. “Mom, I’m literally drinking from a coconut on an island. Why would I sabotage a wedding I’m not even allowed to attend?”
Before she could answer, another number appeared on my screen—from Noah, my sister's fiancé.
Great.
His voice was hoarse. “Sophia… did you change your reservation?”
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