After hanging up, I stayed on the balcony, listening to the waves as my family conversation fell apart. Theories, accusations, passive-aggressive emoticons… a veritable circus.
But Emily sounded genuinely contrite. Vulnerable, even. It softened me—but it didn't magically fix everything.
I needed clarity. I called Noah.
He got straight to the point. "Sophia, the salespeople confirmed everything. Jessica used your access. She accidentally deleted the reservations."
“And the guest list?” I asked quietly.
He hesitated. "Jessica told Emily that you weren't supportive... that you didn't think she was ready. It made her doubt herself."
My heart sank.
“I never said that.”
“I know,” he said. “Emily knows too. She’s devastated that she let someone else speak for you.”
Afterward, I walked along the shore, thinking about betrayal, misplaced trust, and how easily a wedge can form between sisters.
In the morning I knew what I had to do.
I called my best friend, Lauren. After listening to everything, she said, "Emily isn't cruel—she's just spineless under pressure. But only you can decide if this relationship is worth repairing."
She wasn't wrong.
So I booked a flight back home.
Not to save anyone. Not to alleviate the tragedy. But because I didn't want this wound to harden into eternal silence.
When I landed, Emily asked to meet up. Just the two of us.
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