Lucy’s pov

The sharp knock slammed through the quiet like a fist. I jerked upright, heart hammering so hard it hurt, sheets tangled around my legs. Five a.m. glared from the phone screen. Another knock, harder.

“Lucy? It’s me. Open up.”

Mom’s voice, tight and bright at the same time. I swung my legs out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and yanked the door open.

She stood there in her thin robe, hair a little wild, eyes shining like she’d already had three cups of coffee and something stronger.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, stepping inside without waiting. “I’m getting married this morning.”

The...